The Claude Monet
by StormDragon666
Summary: I like school. Always have. Some of the reason is definitely the fact that I'm a helpless nerd who draws self worth from studying and acing tests, but I've got my fun side, too! I love the banter in my French class. I love kicking ass in the soccer team. And I love my art class, even though my teacher there has romantic feelings for me. Wait wait whut. DeiSaku, High school AU.
1. First

(**EDIT, MARCH 2012: I'M EDITING THIS STORY A BIT TO POLISH IT , AND KEEP IT UP WITH MY CURRENT WRITING STYLE. NO PLOT CHANGES, JUST CLEANUP.)**

I had a poll months ago about which high School-themed two-or-threeshot you readers would prefer, a TobiSaku in which Sakura kills her abusive parents and Tobi is the only one who suspects her, or a DeiSaku in which soccer-playing Sakura has to deal with the romantic advances of her art teacher. The DeiSaku won and I'm kind of glad about it. I've never done Tobi before, and if that story had won, it would be the goofball Tobi I wrote about, not the "Madara/evil overlord persona" Tobi.

This three-shot shall be told in Sakura's diary entries, which mean a lot less detail than my normal writing style requires (Yeah, right…well, I'll try) but a lot less writing for me, which is good for author and reader both. The diary entry thing is something I got off one of my favorite books, _Life As We Knew It, _which chronicles the life of a teenage girl after the moon is shoved closer to Earth, causing volcanic eruptions, tidal waves, riots, worldwide starvation and general suffering. It's pretty powerful.

Oh. Note: **Since I have the gift of creativity you ought to know that Sakura's high school life is NOT a carbon copy of my own. Except for the fact that she likes House, Lost and Harry Potter. We're kindred spirits that way.  
**

One more thing: this story will somewhat bash Ino Yamanaka. I would do it with Karin, whose character is far worse, IMO, but this story was first written before she was introduced. Ino stays in her position as the bratty cheerleader even though I can tolerate her just fine. Who'd have guessed. **  
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Commence beginning.

666

Within the Diary of one Sakura Haruno

666

**Tuesday, August 25****th**

_Bonjour!_ Me again, writing in my yearly diary. I fill up a book for every school year, you know (for myself, when I'm retired and bored in my nursing home) ever since Naruto got me a Pokemon diary for my eighth birthday with a Blastoise on it. Pokemon isn't really my thing anymore, but Blastoise and his totally respectable and totally badass superpower cannons will be cool forever! Anyhow...

I use littler diaries for summer vacations and all my diaries are stored in a digital lock safe in my closet. So if anyone ever breaks into my house and sees my safe and somehow opens it, expecting a family fortune or something…well, sucks for them. And me.

My tradition is to start each with an introduction of myself, since I theorize that one day I'll read all these and observe how my view of myself changes. I'm Sakura Haruno, Japanese immigrant, ambidextrous, French-speaking, a key player on my high school soccer team since freshman year and in the top five grade percentage of my school. But that's very objective.

Subjectively, I think I'm one of the few teenagers who is comfortable in her own skin, and actually gives a damn about good behavior and kindness, though thankfully the latter part IS common :) My dream is to make it into the medical field, and make a splash in it. I don't want to be just another nurse. I want to be a surgeon, or a diagnostician. Someone powerful and knowledgeable who can heal and recognize as many illnesses as possible. For this reason, Greg House is my idol. I also think he's amazingly attractive. He and Daniel Radcliffe are just...just perfect. Hey, eighty-year-old self, do you remember _expecto patronum? _

Well, better start about this year before I get carried away. It's the first day of school, or rather the evening after the first day of school, and I already have some history homework (it's not so bad, though). My core classes like math and chemistry are advanced as usual, I'm starting my third year of French, my third year of soccer (that is, the school's varsity team~) and my third of art. I love learning in general because I'm more studious-persistent-braniac-nerd-loser than anything else, but soccer and Pottery III and sometimes French III are what make me really delighted to spend the day at school. Here's why:

Soccer because I love running, kicking and winning (...I'm still a nice person...even though I kick stuff...) and the artful combination of these elements into one glorious sport is just awesome.

Side Note: that Frosted Flakes commercials where they sing "We are tigers, mighty, mighty tigers!" actually give me goosebumps, and gives me a little rush of pride to be on a team like mine. During a couple of games in the past, they've actually chanted it to inspire us to win. That's how you know we kick ass: our school sings cereal commercials.

French is just wonderful in my opinion, because, firstly, it sounds gorgeous to the ear, and the country itself, all of Europe really, has a kind of beauty that much of America just can't touch. I don't know if I'll ever move or live over there, but I definitely plan to vacation there as much as I can possibly pay for it and if I can speak the language I won't have to have a tour guide parading me around the cities, all but holding up an invisible sign that says "LOOK AT THIS STUPID AMERICAN HAHAHA" Oh also, I like the ongoing war we have with the German classes. Last year, the French V kids, all of whom are seniors of course, drove their truck behind the German truck in the homecoming parade and kept rear-ending them. It was hilarious. The only time French people ever started a fight. YES I WENT THERE!

Hmm. This makes me think of middle school days when I probably would have thought a sight like that was barbaric or so below me or something. Gosh, I was a brat then. Better than some kids, sure, but...hooray that I'm sixteen now and I have the good luck to have my bratty "ugh you guys are so dumb and I am so great" days behind me. Mostly. Um. Yes. Moving on. Art!

Now, art is one of the biggest outlets of expressing yourself, ever, and the fact that there are so many ways to do it wows me every time, but I do have to admit the more shallow reason I like my pottery class so much, and that's because of the teacher there. My freshman year, Mr. Shodai was the "real" teacher but he was gone caring for his cancer-stricken wife almost the entire year and we had a sub four days out of five.

This sub was not _actually _a teacher, I don't think. He was a college student, called Mr. Iwa. Some people called him by his first name, Deidara. He's just one of many Japanese people in our high school. We have quite a high percentage of Japanese people in this town and subsequently in all the schools. There's me, Hinata, Naruto, Ino, Mr. Iwa, Shikamaru, Matsuri who's from the other high school and tons more. But now we're talking about Mr. Iwa.

He's deserving of a whole paragraph, maybe two, but after this I've got to finish my Renaissance worksheet. In a nutshell Mr. Iwa is the coolest guy to ever enter a classroom, maybe because he's not technically an adult, being a college _student _and still has a teenage persona and sense of humor that makes everyone our age just adore him. He'll probably have that attitude and approach to life even when he's eighty and losing his memory. And now I have to start a new paragraph just for his sense of style. You ready for this? Next paragraph is gonna have some faaabulous shit, pardon my French.

Firstly, his hair. Look at that man's hair! Gorgeous! It's unlike anything I've ever seen before, and lots of us girls have little jealous fits when his hair is always so perfect looking. This man does not _do _bad hair days. They are forbidden. Once you get past his hair, you move on to his clothes which are also crazy awesome and might make you feel like your mother dressed you this morning. At the least, he often wears jeans like most of us mere mortals (even though allegedly teachers can only wear jeans on Fridays) but he can't just leave these normal clothes be, oh no. Mr. Iwa draws on most of his pants. His best ones are the pair on which he hand-painted a red-and-yellow phoenix with half-spread wings and a fanning tail, and it's so _breathtaking _and not that it makes you stare at his bum or anything but it's just a darn cool pair of pants. He paints and doodles on his shirts, too, but that's less notable than just the fact that he wears whatever goddamn shirts he wants and these are not typical teacher shirts. Notable examples include his Adventure Time shirt, straight out of Hot Topic, the one with a mushroom cloud on it, the greysish one that always requires him to wear like four evil-looking necklaces to complement it, and that one Hurley top that Naruto swears was stolen from him, and makes all the girls stare and drool.

(Also he paints his nails alternatively black and teal depending on the week, and single-handedly made it the cool thing to do during the first semester he was here. That was an interesting social experiment to watch.)

I can't accurately describe Mr. Iwa without telling about the time last year, my sophomore year, he came to school two hours early just to TP the entire art room and left it that way all day for his students to wade around in like idiots. Or ducks. I felt more like an idiot than a duck since I don't usually trip over toilet paper walls on any given day. And he was just like "yeah whatevs you guys you have fun swimming" and sat at his TP-covered little desk. It was just a very funny day that day, trust me. Especially when the superintendent came in and just...walked out.

Earlier that same year he shot a rubber band at Terry Pinnell (that annoying, loud kid you want to stick with a tranquilizer dart) whenever he talked when he wasn't supposed to. He brought a boombox into class freshmen year and played his favorite songs so loud the gym teacher from down the hall came to complain. There's a ton of other, just...really amusing, really impressive little acts he's done just for the hell of it ever since he came here, I can't list them all at once. I can say that sometime during these very fun times, maybe in between my laughing at his antics and trying to get work done at the same time (difficult combination, but I persevere!) he's become just as much a friend as an art teacher and we can chat about anything while classwork is going on. He's really helped my artistic abilities, that's for sure. I can sketch fairly well but that's it. He showed me how to use my hands on pottery wheels and to shape clay and to hold paintbrushes and move them just so. It's fascinating to think he's so crazy _and _so articulate in some areas.

Some people are just amazing enigmas like him, and that he would take time out of his schedule of art and badassery to compliment my work or my outfit or anything about me just makes me so happy. I'm glad to be worth something to a guy like him. Even more so when he'll step down from his Throne of Awesome and have very intriguing, intelligent conversations with me that can start out with interpretations of the newest Lost episode or this one sect of philosophy he hates, or really _anything, _and it'll swiftly fall into a rhythm like we have done this for years.

ARRRGH LACTIC ACID BUILDUP IN MY HAND HURT MUCH

Okay, I've switched hands. (Yes, ambidextrous people can write with _both _hands, bitch) Feel a lot better now. Anyway I better get to my homework now. But wait I didn't even say anything about the first day of my junior year! Okay, I have the same French teacher, soccer coach and art teacher (Deidara will graduate in spring so he's just "assistant teacher" until Mr. Shodai comes back…if ever…) and that means it should be a good year.

Sincerely Yours, Sakura, who wants some newer soccer cleats for Christmas

**Wednesday, August 26****th**

Did I forget to mention art class is 7th period for me, last class of the day, same as it was last year? Mr. Iwa said we're his favorite class. Again. I have lunch half an hour later this year but I won't complain. I have vending machines to sate my hunger if I need them. And school lunch isn't nearly as bad as television portrays it as. Or do we just have very skilled lunchladies in the cafeteria?

Future-self do you know (or...remember) what a Smartboard is? Well, the only one who will ever read this is me so…you/me should. Basically a computer-chalkboard that can be hooked up to laptops to show movies and PowerPoints and everything else you want. Ms. Frank has one in her classroom this year, my advanced chemistry room, and it seemed like she never got instructed on how to use it.

I was trying to tell her "Do the 20-point Orientation!" but she wouldn't listen, and she kept telling whoever was talking to sit down and not say anything. Christian was telling her to do the circle tap, which is an erasing technique so I don't know why he thought that would be potentially helpful. It was pretty loud in there, honestly just because Ms. Frank insisted on trying to do everything herself. Everything was all,

"Ms. Frank, the 20-point Orientation will make it do this that, etc,"

"This thing's not a Smartboard, it's a Dumbboard!"

"Operator error!"

"James, shut _up!_"

And there was a lot of laughing in between, because it was a lot funnier when it actually happened, but then again, what isn't? A lot of things are. Like last year when Naruto and I were insisting to everyone before 1st period that the clock in the cafeteria read Ninety-two o' clock. But that took place before sunrise, on a Monday, right after spring break, so I can't imagine our brain activity was up to proper speed. Anyway.

My first soccer practice is next week! I can't wait!

**Tuesday, September 2****nd**

I'm surprised how many teachers have learned our names already. I'm not surprised that most of them memorized mine (And they will soon learn that my _hair is not dyed. _When will people fucking LEARN!) but other random kids as well. We have a smart batch of teachers this year. Good thing. Good teachers will give me good knowledge, which gets me into a good college which gets me into a good career field which gets me good pay which means I can afford to have a pool in my backyard. And if being a good doctor is my main goal in life, getting a pool in my backyard takes second place. (My second-place goal when I was little was to own a beautiful white horse named Kingdom Come...)

Hm, what else? Hinata was over today. We walked home together instead of taking our separate buses. We shared my iPod on the walk back and listened to some sad, beautiful songs. Hinata is very much a fan of all beautiful and even melancholy music, regardless of genre or artist, and I'm so glad that influence from her has spread to me. She's shown me Enya and Nightwish, and right now my shared earbud is letting me hear the Land Before Time soundtrack that she gifted me with two years ago. We're always silent when we listen to it. This is a kind of music you should bow your head to. James Horner, you've broken my heart and made me shed tears of joy. Thank you for this experience.

I think I will find my stuffed Cera plushie when I get home and hug her while I do my chemistry homework.

We arrived at my house and while I searched for Cera, Hinata turned on the TV and found my mom's Lost DVDs and we watched a few more of those. Hinata missed much of the show when it was still on TV and so once every one or two weeks she comes over and we go through a few episodes. She adores the mystery, the drama, every little thing about it. We missed last week since she was in Japan visiting her grandparents.

My mom really likes Hinata. She always gives her a blanket when it's cold or something to drink, anything to make her comfortable. I asked her once (in the freshmen year diary, I think?) why she likes her so much.

"She's almost as cute as you!" My mom said in one of her gushy moments. My mom can be like a teenager sometimes in how she gushes over cute things. I'm not quite as prone to sappiness as she is. Anger, hells yeah, but not nearly as much sappiness. "She's always has this expression like a sleepy kitten. You used to look like that, too. Now you only have that look when you're actually sleepy." That is totally word for word.

(I look like a sleepy kitten?

...awww?)

Then Hinata walked home and I did my homework and ate dinner so...I guess I'll go online or something. Find a new Enya song. Don't have anything else to do. Except change Zolei's litterbox.

Yes, I named my cat after the pronunciation for the French "Soleil". Problem? No? I thought so.

**Thursday, September 4****th**

I had SO much fun at soccer practice oh my God! I didn't care that we were there so late the sun was setting when I finally came home. The sweat, the workout, the pride and the energy, it was all worth it. If I ever fall into depression or something, I have no worries I'll turn to drugs or something else bad, I'll just eat chocolate and play more soccer.

Maybe I should do a school recap. Limestone, South Dakota is probably too big to be called a "small town". Or is it? What does a population of eight thousand constitute, small or medium? Our town's pretty nice looking with a lot of small businesses that fit the "quaint downtown" archetype that a lot of novelists try to portray, and I like to think it's a very safe town, too. Not that we don't have our share of criminals or rapists, I'm sure there are some...but Limestone is pretty nice. And no, for God's sake, we don't talk like those police officers from Fargo. We've got two smallish but neat high schools, the delightfully creative Limestone High School and Redstone High School, which compete against each other a ton in sports tournaments a lot because it takes a month or two before regional or state-wide tournaments open up, so we spend our time beating each other up until then.

Oh, quick note, I just have to put this down, I love it so: freshman year, I was on the debate team, for one reason. Some people believe it was because I'm good at arguing/threatening, but really it was for the T-shirt you got for being on the team. After two or so meetings, everyone on the team would pitch an idea and we'd vote. Due to a dare I made just before eighth grade ended, I pitched a rather…suggestive idea, but the debate captain was blind enough not to realize it. I still own that shirt and enjoy wearing it:

On the front, with bold black letters on a green background, "We're on LSD!" And on the back, "Limestone Debate, Yes, It's True!" so you know it's the debate team we're on. Not the drug.

But I still won fifty bucks for getting that shirt made. It was my first actual bet and it was about a drug joke, and we all loved it. Of course, if anyone on that team was actually using LSD, let's just say they would "not be tolerated, and would be ceremonially skinned by their parents once I told them and anyone else I could tell in order to make them regret doing drugs c: "

Now Mom's calling me for dinner. We're watching House tonight with some pizza and I don't want to miss it! I'll just say that Coach Kent is still hardcore and loud, Tenten Ama is still our team's fave goalie, and I'm still the kickass offense player I was born to be. It may be that time of the month for me right now, but the new school year is going so pleasantly I just don't give a damn about Mother Nature punching me in the uterus. Peace out.

**Friday, September 5****th**

There was a pep assembly today. There's one every year, to make the freshman feel school spirit now that they are high schoolers, and inspired by the upperclassmen and all that jazz. I thought it was pretty cool when I first saw it but most people just describe it as "gay". Pisses me off that that's the default word for "stupid". If someone says it in front of me in the next three days or so, I can shove their back against a wall and step on their nuts, and use the good old PMS excuse.

A large portion of the assembly was dancing cheerleaders, which gave me more Ino Yamanaka than I really needed. The cheerleader uniforms have been slightly modified this year so they are about fifteen percent less slutty than they were before, so that was a small gift. Otherwise it was just Ino parading around and showing herself off with sexual subliminal messaging as usual. And right in front of two hundred little freshmen, geez!

After the assembly, it was my lunch shift so I waltzed on down to the cafeteria and found the table that Naruto claimed for us this year, and we talked about the Hunger Games, which Naruto never read and is finally now considering after the brilliance the film dazzled him with. Hinata would have liked this conversation, but she left early today for a dental checkup. After that was fifth period, math for me, but today everyone in the school spent their fifth period staring at their classroom's Smartboard to watch a video the Broadcast Journalism kids had set up. And the opening credits made sure we didn't forget that.

Our Smartboard was refusing to cooperate, so we all just had to crowd around the teacher's laptop in a most awkward and silly pileup to see the video, which was showcasing all the different classes and courses the school had to offer. I think it would make more sense to show such a thing in April, when you choose your classes for the following year, and I can't begin to guess why they showed it now, but...I guess that's why I don't want to take a broadcast journalism class.

There was one segment about the art classes available. Mr. Iwa, one of only two art teachers, stole the show from Mrs. Kara, who's quirky and fun to listen to, I hear, but one hundred percent camerashy. So this segment was all him.

There was some footage of kids in the Foundations of Drawing class, and the pottery classes, one of which was my own (I saw myself in my blue Aeropostale shirt and my little white hairclip) and the Advanced Painting class. They were actually edited together pretty well, and I bet Zac (Zac Harris, not Rumo) had something to do with that. In the middle of the segment Mr. Iwa got interviewed. He had his usual partial-ponytail-and-covering-the-left-eye gig going on, and he was even wearing the T-shirt he'd bought at last year's Rockfest. He really did not look like a teacher, and it made me smile to see his typical look.

"What are the benefits of taking an art class?" asked an off-screen voice while the question glowed orange on a black background.

"It's fun," Mr. Iwa said, when his head and torso suddenly came into view. His painting class, his 1st period, I believe, was working behind him. "Where else can you go in a school and pretty much do make whatever you want? Art is all about _you, _and if you're not being you and enjoying yourself in my class, your butt is outta here, yeah." Oh, did I not mention his "yeah" speech habit? It sometimes switches to "mm" also. It's...unique. "I came from Kyoto, and I went to a pretty big school, but even there, they had only one art class and it was for talented, snotty people only. I hated how judgmental they were about anything that didn't look picture-perfect. I came over here to study abroad, found that American public schools are way more understanding than Japanese, and I want to keep that style going, mm. HEY!"

Mr. Iwa turned around and the camera followed his eyes. There was a short kid in a hoodie waving his arms stupidly; he stopped just the second before the camera settled completely on him, but it's not like anybody missed him looking like a insane squirrel on camera. "What's wrong, Cameron, you got something to say, yeah? Bring it _on, _little boy, I'll embarrass you in front of _all _your friends!"

And the video had static for a minute, and then that "Please Stand By" with the multi-colored screen and then there was a brief segment about something I didn't hear about. Me and a couple other kids laughed so hard we drowned out all the computer's noise. The Journalism kids had totally played the ending of that interview of their advantage.

Once I got home, I found that my mother bought me strawberry ice cream while shopping today. I had a delicious, orgasmic bowl of it right before bed, when it tastes the best. I went to bed with a full tummy. And if I have a full tummy, nothing short of my mother's death or Hinata crying can bother me.

**Friday, September 11****th**

Today I had an argument with Sai Marek. He's a year my junior and has been annoying the hell out of me since middle school with tons of pranks and remarks ranging from petty to outrageous to racist. He says his family is from the Czech Republic, and his name does sound like just that nationality, but he's lied a lot before so I am inclined to think he's trying to force himself into the caterory of "foreign kid" to get some attention. His assaults on me began four years ago when I jogged a mile away to his house on the night of Fourth of July and lit a firecracker in his direction. It chased him halfway down the street, and I mean _chased _him. It followed his every stride and turn and I loved it. Maybe it was truly guided by the hand of God, who wanted that hurtful bully to taste some of his own medicine. And it was his fault anyway that this whole feud started.

The bastard _kicked my cat. _That is equivalent to kicking my child. I wonder what the hell happened to Sai in his childhood that would make him think nothing of kicking animals. Should I sympathize with him? Should I try to find out what's wrong? Maybe. But I'm afraid I won't for a long time, because it'll be a VERY long time before I forgive that little shit for kicking my Zolei.

Of course, he had to love art, a class I liked as well, and he was one of three sophomores in this pottery class this year. Our first project of the year was to make a set of blocks and paint a bunch of made-up symbols on the sides. Mr. Iwa said we would play a game with them in about two weeks and he promised laughter and awesomeness but at 2:23 PM on that day, even though the bell to leave was just minutes away, I felt no awesomeness or laughter. Sai had deliberately jabbed a hole in my cube as he walked past, and one of his friends who sat next to him laughed.

I went over to his table, frowning but not saying anything, and jabbed a hole in his. "Hey!" he said like he didn't expect it.

"Do we really need to do this fourth-grade routine _again?_" I spat.

"Um what?" his possibly-girlfriend, Kin, asked, like my statement made no sense.

I held my cube up to his face. "_This, _moron! What is this passive-aggressive crap! If you want to insult or hurt me, you can insult or hurt me, but no, we have to do it the Special Sai way. If you have a problem with me, why don't you just address it? Say it?"

"Why do you have to stab holes in people's art projects?" he said almost flatly, (HIS FLAT, STUPID VOICE, UGH!) gesturing confusedly to his own cube.

"Why do you have to lie like a backstabbing—"

Mr. Iwa interrupted us then by turning on his boombox to full blast and everyone in the room got a vicious earful of "_DON'T _STOP! BE-_LIEEE-_VIINNN'!"

"Both of you, shut up! You guys want to go on a date?" That silenced the whole room. Random comments have that power. "How 'bout we go on one right now? You guys and me and the hallway, it'll be so hot. Come_ on._" And we both went, everyone staring after us and Miranda hissing, "Oooooh!" Mr. Iwa led held the door open like a very polite gentleman, then followed us out into the hall and slammed it so hard me and Sai both flinched and pinched our eyes shut. There was a lecture with lots of "yeahs" and Mr. Iwa's finger in my face asking me if I could just ignore the stupidity Sai was pushing on me, please, and then pointing at Sai telling him he needed to stop starting shit with people who would obviously retaliate hard.

Sai got his two cents in, I guess, by saying I was a vicious, temperamental bitch who should get a week of detention for screaming at him, and he also alluded to the fact that I held a secret life as both a herpes-stricken stripper and an assassin with such weird craft I wondered which television show he'd stolen the whole thing from. I held my temper but glared at him, tried to make the force of it cut into him and hurt him. We went back into the art room and the bell rang, I rode the bus home and listened to random songs the whole way home on full blast. My bare legs were curled up close and I crushed my water bottle flat in my hand.

I could stand Naruto talking to himself for forty minutes, I can stand being hit in the head with a hiking boot, and I can stand studying a single page till my eyes ache. I could barely stand Mr. Iwa thinking bad of me.

Sai's such a bastard. Most of this entry is about my hatred for him and that's wrong and ignorant. AND it's wrong and ignorant to say it's all his fault. Whether he angered me today or not, I could have been using my time to say a prayer for the people and the families whose lives were ruined on 9/11. Pissed off as I am, I can at least know I'm a good and decent American. Someday, we'll heal, but never will we forget. Once I'm done here, I think I'll sit down and pray for the people who were hurt by this day. They deserve it, and always will.

If my future children forget, I'll slam it into their heads myself.

**Monday, October 5****th**

I had a terrible nightmare last night. After I finish writing this I have to get straight to bed. I've already stayed up an extra hour and a half. I need my sleep but my posters of the French and Japanese flags and the little magazine poster of MLP and several drawings I'd made in my few years just aren't comforting me like they always do.

Sunday night I dreamed that I was just…I need to elaborate first. (Well, what else is new?) Once in a while, I like hiding. Like a cat or little mouse or something. When I was little I loved hiding in couch cushion forts or under the table, anyplace where I could hide and giggle about how no one could find me or get me. Snow forts, too, I loved, and that was what my dream centered on. It felt like it was mocking me with something I loved. Sunday night, I dreamed that an elementary-age, long-haired version of me was sitting in a show fort. It must have been light outside, because I could see the black silhouettes of creatures that stood outside the structure.

The little me in the dream couldn't decide if they were strange creatures or strange people, but that didn't matter, really. They were muttering and growling as they poked and slapped my fort walls. They wanted to get in and get me. Eat me, kill me, cut me open. The little dream-me didn't think of rape at the time, but perhaps the assailants wanted to do that, too. But little me did know that the fort walls were not that strong. The things would get in eventually and grab me and that would be my end. I knew I would die soon. I was just nine or ten, and I would die.

I told Hinata about this dream at lunch today. She didn't say anything, just gave me a hug, and I knew how much sympathy she was offering me. For Hinata, it was massive, and it meant so much. I felt warm inside, not just with pride for her being able to do that. She's such a sweet friend. I'm lucky to know her, and that she likes and wants to be friends with someone like me.

And I even told the story to Mr. Iwa, when he remarked on my expression as I worked. Apparently I looked pale and more than a little scared. Telling my art teacher about a dream I had seemed odd on the surface, but I felt comfortable around him, like there would really be nothing odd here, so I went ahead and relayed the dream to him, too, and he sat on the edge of my table and listened. Vanessa, my seat neighbor, also heard it, but that didn't bother me.

When the story was done, the first thing the teacher did was lean down and hug me. He pressed his cheek against my head and that was just aww. Since I'm a stuffy rule-follower, the first thing that went through my head was a flash of "Inappropriate conduct!" but that faded quickly. This was Deidara Iwa. A hug from him was nice.

"That's scary shit to happen to a little kid. It's done now." he muttered. "If you were one of those people who could control what you dream, you should have dreamed me or your ADHD friend to beat up those things. The walls would still be busted through, but _I'd _get you and take you away, not them." That he mentioned Naruto made me giggle.

"That'd be nice, but I'm one of those mere mortals who can't be the ruler of their own dreams." And I hugged him back, because that's what you're supposed to do when a friend hugs you. "Thank you, anyway. Bad thoughts are all gone now."

"Yeah, I know."

I know that's gonna make me sleep better tonight. Mr. Iwa always makes the day better. _Note, Jan 6, (four months later) I SHOULD HAVE SUSPECTED THAT MOMENT FROM THE BEGINNING!_

**Tuesday, October 20****th**

Our first big game against Redstone was today. ("Was tonight," actually. 'Cause it's about midnight right now) My legs and torso hurt like hell. I haven't played a serious game since last spring against Grain Park, a school two hour's drive away. I'll need more practice if a game against little Redstone makes me sore. Maybe it's because me and the other team's offensive player went for the ball at the same time and our legs knocked together like clashing swords. If you say it was not an epic moment, _I will mess you up. _

I snuck into Sai's home and put a tarantula in his sock drawer at age thirteen. I _can _mess you up if it so pleases me.

And more news on Mr. Iwa (he fills up pages like nothing else!) from earlier in the day, too: We're doing a new project now. It's a contest between us and Ms. Kara's Foundations of Drawing class next door. Who can take photos of animals and turn them into shaded, accurately drawn pictures the best? I think it's LOL-worthy that we're doing drawings in a pottery class, but...well...that's how it is. Anyhow, I had just started shading the nose of my Dalmatian. Vanessa, who sits next to me, leaned over and said, "Aww, it's so cute, Sakura!"

Vanessa laughs a lot, and I mean a lot, but she rarely gives compliments so I gave some generous thanks. But then she leaned over her chair and said, "Hey, Mr. Iwa! Come see Sakura's!" He came quickly, holding a can of some beverage in his left hand and wearing a jacket that showed off just how skinny he was. (I have to make at least a small mention of it. I likes mah men skinny…not as much as me, though! Can't have a guy as lean as a female soccer player or we'd have an anorexic on our hands. Whoa, shit, rambling alert!)

"It's cute like Sakura, isn't it?" Vanessa said with an odd calm.

"M'afraid Sakura's far cuter than a Dalmatian puppy." And he put his hand in my hair like…well, like plenty of adults did when I was younger, and some still did. "Sakura's cute enough to date." I turned around a bit to look up at him. In the process I moved my foot accidentally kicked my messenger bag over. He must have thought that was funny, since he grinned and laughed at me. It seemed like a quieter laugh, I guess is the word, than his usual ones. It was a little odd to listen to.

I don't think it's the first time he's called me cute, but it definitely has been awhile. And he didn't say it with the fact he was wearing right then. "You think I'm cute? Since when?"

"Since the first day of freshman year, yeah. Probably before that, too." he replied easily. He blinked the blink that everyone blinks when they get a new idea. (I'm familiar with this blink, you see.) "Would you date me if I asked?"

By now about half the room was watching. The guy's fingers were still in my hair. "Sure," I said without thinking. "That'd be really nice to see you outside the classroom. Someplace besides the grocery story, I mean." I feel like I could have said more here. But his question left me at quite a loss. I'm not sure what to do here or what he's really asking.

"Cool, we'll see something, Friday at four. Oh, the dog—below the right nostril, it needs to be darker, yeah. There's not enough contrast." And he just went off to his desk, and started to pick pieces off a slab of cookie dough. Back to regular behavior.

I should write down the date of the date (haha!) in here so I can look back later in the week and know I didn't actually daydream today's class period.

Friday, October 23rd, at four in the afternoon, at the movies, I will have a date with my twenty-two-year-old art teacher.

He doesn't need to know it'll be my first.

666

Oh, Deidara, you subtle flirter, you! Asking out a high school girl in front of all her classmates!

I'm sure the OOC-ness is radiating off Deidara in tidal waves. But that's the way I like it. 

If Deidara is twenty-two now, we are to assume he was nineteen when he first came as an assistant teacher to Sakura's high school when she was a freshman. Let's pretend that's realistic, okay? This shall be a two-or-threeshot but of course I'll find a way to incorporate my favorite themes into it: the generic male possessiveness, Sakura being (physically) hurt or going missing, and random foreign languages inserted in random places. And that last one I've already managed to put in: Sakura speaks French, which makes me a little sad inside, since I'm a born German and my class is always dissing the French. We have a delightful record of kicking their butts in a yearly dodgeball game.

This is perhaps the "happiest" Sakura I've ever written. Despite her mention of a father who's a (stupid, not particularly harmful) drunk, she enjoys herself in sports and with her friends and mother, puts numerous and nonsensical notes and even the occasional emoticon in her diary in parentheses way too much, and is comfortable enough in her own skin that she allows her temper to control her sometimes. And that usually doesn't happen to the sad, crushed characters, you know?

I like this story idea quite a lot. Expect fairly-timed updates for it.

Ta…Storm


	2. Next

I'm trying to finish up this story quickly, before I lose interest in it. In other, possibly more exciting news, I went to my first anime convention and it was _quite amazing, _thank you. I had many adventures, such as going up forty floors in an elevator half-full of cosplaying strangers, falling up an escalator, losing track of every single person I came to the convention with, getting my picture taken with Ash Ketchum and also a random person in a wolf costume, among other things that would take many paragraphs. And I know better than to bore you all with more than one paragraph. Onto the DeiSaku! It's pretty long this time.

666

Within the Diary of One Sakura Haruno

666

**Thursday, October 22****nd**

Somehow it was a surprise when people started giving me hell about dating Mr. Iwa. I don't why I didn't expect it, it's so freaking obvious that a teacher-student relationship, even the beginnings of one, are crazy news and hot gossip fuel. Thankfully I was more resigned and pissed than embarrassed. And yeah, that's weird, but I can't explain it.

Mostly, it was girls who had probably asked him out before, and a couple guys who were curious I think because they're friends with him, same as me. I got even mixes of jealousy, happiness, hate and emotions so complex and seething I couldn't identify them. Of course, there were questions mixed in, too. Did I like him, too? Did I realize how lucky I was? Would I ask him why he covers up part of his face with his hair? (Because he always says he's got cataracts in his left eye but some of us aren't stupid enough to believe that) Also, of course, did I realize he's liked me for a long time, too? This last one was so laughable I ignored it (or laughed, depending on who told it to me) and wondered how many people would use the idea of me, a student, dating a teacher, to fuel their hunt for more porn during the next few days.

At lunch today, even Hinata asked me about it while Naruto moped on the other side of the table. I told Hinata truthfully that I really didn't feel scared or psyched or anything. It was Mr. Iwa, we'd have fun, laugh some like I did with her or Naruto or Tenten or Catherine, and we'd both go home. It'd be like having a friend over. I told this to everyone else who asked, in so many words, but with Hinata I knew she really understood. She always does, and that's one great thing about her. Whoever marries this girl will be greeted with some of the finest, pure _understanding _in human existence. If Hinata was a boy, I'd pray that he would want to date me.

Oh, and sorry to ruin the dating mood and replace it with UGGH TIRED, but I woke up ten minutes before my 6:15 alarm this morning. Great tiredness and sadness abound. Zolei was sleeping with his butt on my head. Plus my mom told me that she's going to show me how to make scrambled eggs in the microwave on Saturday morning (which big for her because anything with food/cooking/ingredients/Rachel Ray is a part of her personal Bible). She was really excited about teaching me anything having to do with cooking.

As you can guess, I haven't told my mother about this yet.

**Friday, October 23****rd**

It was creepy, that blankness I felt all day before THE EVENT. There was no fear, no anxiety, no excitement. Just one random burst of emotion during 2nd period, which made me draw a fierce, angry black smudge on my history notes, but that I couldn't even categorize into a named feeling.

What's up with my emotions lately? I mean usually if I get pissed off I _know _I'm pissed off. Mr. Iwa's throwing my feelings out of whack. Hmph. Stupidface Mr. Iwa. I guess it's not always funny to have someone get caught up in your wacky antics.

Eating breakfast and lunch were really the only sensations I had all day. My toast was too hot and my chicken sandwich was spicy even though I'd put nothing on it.

I rode the bus home like usual, set my messenger bag on my desk in my room, just under the MLP and my CD rack, played with Zolei and then told my mother that Catherine had asked me to see a movie with her. At this she was surprised ("Isn't Catherine the one your math teacher hates?") but didn't challenge me. I expected to have a rush of gratitude, that my mother trusts me so much and knows without fail that I'm responsible, or the very opposite, guilt that I'm taking advantage of her trust like this...but I hardly felt anything. The event was still clogging my Feeling Drain. It's weird being so stoic. It's weird being...like Sai. Ew.

I walked to the movie theater since I probably wouldn't be getting my daily kick-the-soccerball-around-the-backyard exercise today. Before I left, I changed into an exercise-friendly, red tanktop and a bracelet with a little white opal on it before going. I think I looked good. I stood outside the building and waited. My cell phone read 3:54. My date—whoa.—was there at 3:55.

"You fucking serious?" There he was with his skinny jacket again, looking genuinely surprised and happy. And some girl in the parking lot staring at him. (Mr. Iwa goes few places without female eyes.) "Well, I mean, it's good you're here. I thought I'd have to come to your house and drag you out."

"You know where I live?" I laughed, trying to put the oddness of this situation out of mind.

"I'm a teacher, in case you forgot, yeah. I can find out really easy, from this thing called the 'main office'." By now we were walking in the front doors. There were about a dozen people in front of us in line and half a dozen more just coming in. The business of Friday Night Dates were just getting started. We stared at the selections in silence. I would always prefer romantic films and even scary ones to…random _Meet the Spartans _shit. I told him I didn't know what movies he wanted to see, and to please tell me.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see a smile. One of those slightly-manic ones that I knew to be a part of his character. "I like…ones that make me have nightmares. That one!" And before telling me what "that one" was, he grabbed my wrist and walked me towards the ticket line. While we waited he noticed the little, cheap purse I was carrying. "You realize that's completely unnecessary, yeah?"

"Where else would I sneak in my food?" That looked like it surprised him. "Oh, you can't _not _know that that's how girls utilize their purses at the movies. We're ninjas like that. It lets us avoid that nine-dollar popcorn nonsense." He looked like he thought that explanation was genius. Mr. Iwa smiled a very pleased smile and I kinda-sorta smiled back and it felt nice. By now it was our turn for tickets. I reached into my candy purse for the eight dollars and when I found it, Mr. Iwa ripped it out of my hand, stuffed it back in the purse and put a ticket in my empty hand. Except he didn't do it that gracefully. See, he dropped the ticket a few inches above my hand and it spun in mid-air away from me. I had to make a mini acrobatic show of catching it before it hit the ground.

"You didn't need to do that; I can pay for a _movie ticket, _Deidara." The use of his first name made him turn around and smile at me again. I told myself secretly Mr. Iwa/Deidara has an insanely attractive smile and I could talk more about that like, you know, a girl would, but this entry is about the date and not me…being or feeling…stuff. That's for at night, with just my thoughts. But excuse me, I'm on a date right now.

The movie was scary. And actually not completely retarded as some scary movies are. (See _Altered_. Actually, don't.) The scary things in this movie were humans, essentially, and maybe that's why I really did feel fear as I watched. Thrice, just like you'd expect while watching a scary film, I practically jumped out of my seat, and my hand smacked Mr. Iwa's off the armrest where it had been resting. My irrepressible teenage girl instincts tell me that boys will put their hands on the armrests to hold their girl's hand during the scary part. Whether he really was doing that or just chillin' on that spot doesn't matter. I felt so stupid for just...smacking him like that.

A little before the end, the woman next to me tapped me on the shoulder and asked, "Is he yours?" I knew what she meant, but that question and its reply can go a lot of different ways. And she was loud enough that Mr. Iwa must have heard. I just nodded, with a really little smile on my face so I wouldn't look geeky or desperate.

I sensed movement behind me and knew my date (WHOA!) was watching us. He must have made some sign because the lady's eyes became very wide and when I turned back I just saw one of his typical smirks.

"Deidara, movie time now, please. You can be a sexy beast later." I said, pretending to sound exasperated. The distraction from the intestines in the actor's mouth was welcome. Mr. Iwa's smirk lasted a little longer. Credits rolled. It was dark outside.

"I'll drive you home, yeah." For the first time all day I felt a surge of emotion. I had never felt it before and I could not name it for the life of me. It seemed to manifest itself in my mind as the word _NO. _

"Ah…no you won't."

"Yeah, I will."

"I can walk home, Mr. Iwa; I'm fit and I like to run."

"I'm driving you home." He sounded a little ticked off now. Well, then Mr. Anger Management...

"No."

"Yes."

"I'm walking. See you Monday."

He slammed his arm against the wall and my chin bumped into it. He leaned closer and besides the thought "classic" floating in my head I relayed all my self-defense knowledge. But I wouldn't have to use it against him. I just wouldn't, right? "The fuck is your problem about being driven home, yeah?" Flat and to the point. Just the way I didn't want it. But I had to reply the same way.

"Because I don't want to look like your girlfriend."

He looked surprised. _Hurt. _"Why not?"

Inside my head there was a BZZZZT! like some broken, struggling machine. "Why not? Well—why?"

"Because I like you. Is that not obvious?"

No BZZZZT this time.

My reply was...careful. Unsure. I was treading water and there were sharks below me. "Not to me," I said carefully.

His reply was really...patronizing. I think is the word. That word set aside just for the idiots who can't understand the most blindingly obvious. I didn't like that that was pointed towards me. But then he gave that look a verbal touch: "Of course you didn't, yeah. You notice everything except the stuff blind people can't miss!"

"I miss the obvious?" I took the opportunity to steer the conversation. "You say this when it took you four days to notice Abby had got a nine-inch haircut freshman year—"

"Oh, no, you don't get to pull the conversation away. It's just us now, and you are getting in my car right the hell now." He took my hand from my side and walked me across the dark parking lot. For his ticked-off mood, he held my hand pretty gently and it felt nice. As we walked I was still feeling something was off, or like things were going not as planned or there was a trap ready to spring or _something._ I started to feel confused. I hate confused. I hate not knowing. My emotions were running up and down like the most cliched teenager ever known so I just kind of babbled something, and that something was, "May we have the radio on?"

"I hardly ever turn on my car and not have the radio on at the same time." He chuckled, sweetly. "Lucky for you, yeah."

He hadn't parked far. I can't say what kind of car it was (maybe because in a smallish town like Limestone, this kind of beast wasn't available) but I can say that it was the kind with the doors that open _upward. _If that doesn't give a hint to how much it cost then I just can't help you. "Since when did you have this? Mr. Iwa. You cannot make that much as an assistant teacher!"

"My family has this idea that America is full of muggers and rapists and I need a fast car to drive away from them, yeah."

"You're rich?"

"I'm financially stable. Not the same. You like Godsmack, don't you?"

"I do, they're—" Well, by the time we got to my house (if he already knew the way, that goddamn ((possible-))stalker, he didn't show it; he asked me where to turn and stuff) the CD playing in Mr. Iwa's car had switched to a band someone in his fourth period had introduced him to, Theory of a Deadman. I know one song by them, "Bad Girlfriend" and I did not want to stay and listen to it and its one hundred percent sexual lyrics with him. I got out fast and talked fast.

"It's really okay if you want to consider this a 'one-night stand' kind of date—"

"It's really much better if I do not. I'm asking you out again, yeah." he interrupted. "Don't look at me like I'm harassing you, Sakura. I know you like me. I spent two years making sure. I _know._" And the way he looked at me, I knew he was daring me to deny that. I didn't. I couldn't. I did like him: as the best teacher I'd ever had! Why the hell couldn't I make my vocal chords give that message?

Mr. Iwa gave one of those smirks that would have a weaker girl on her knees. "See you Monday." And he drove away.

I haven't written an entry this long since Tenten and I snuck into a Toys 'R Us store and stayed there till they opened next morning.

**Monday, October 26****th**

I have a new project in chemistry. I have to make a model of an atom of Aluminum. I can get it done in a couple of days, but I'll save the start for tomorrow since soccer practice was tonight and I wouldn't skip it for anything. Coach Kirk got pissed at me when I kicked the ball at a bad angle, let it roll into the nearby street and didn't retrieve it. Maybe he didn't notice I had fallen was doing the splits in front of the goal at the time and thus could not be in the street doing anything. Tenten drove me home and suggested I take a hot bath to soothe my freakishly stretched muscles. I agreed and I feel a lot better now. Very sleepy, very content. For a Monday, today was okay. Mr. Iwa acted like nothing had happened and the kids who asked about my date were too busy laughing squealing or "wow"-ing to request details, thank god. I'm going to bed now. Maybe I'll dream Patrick Jane will come and tell me what was up with my emotional constipation the other day. Mmm. Patrick Jane...

**Saturday, October 31****st**** Halloween!**

Halloween. I handed in my aluminum project at eight in the morning and I passed out candy at eight at night. Zolei was smart enough to hiss at a few of the trick-or-treaters and frighten them, and bless him for trying, but a white cat just isn't as Halloweeny as a black one. My mom and me set up a whole lot of Halloween items in our yard. For about half an hour I sat out there all in black to blend with the night and "BOO!"-ed whenever a trick-or-treater walked by me. It was totally hilarious!

Then around nine o' clock Naruto called, asking if I wanted to sleep over. He had super-cheesy popcorn and _The Descent _in his DVD player and if I didn't come over to complete the set, the other two would be tasteless and boring, in that order. I told my mom, packed a change of clothes and my diary and here I am, trying not to think about hungry cave-people hiding in Naruto's closet, or the fact that the movie had been oddly _good _for a horror movie, which was making it difficult to discredit and ignore in my mind. I would be feeling better now if the actors' performances were crap and the effects had been laughable. But NOOOOOO.

Okay, note to self here. Scary movies are scary. Also there is _not _a cannibalistic caveman in the bathroom. No. No there's not.

Shit that movie's scary. I wish we had watched House.

I remember when I stayed over at Hinata's with her friends Suzy and Kayla for her eleventh birthday. Hinata had just the right combination of coats and shoes in her open closet that when the lights when out, they made the shape of a man in a trenchcoat waiting to rape us and that was not welcome in the minds of girls who'd had their first sex ed session just three months ago. There was even a glint (from what the next morning we found was an old mirror) that could be the man's evil, glowing eyes.

The sight had been so realistic we shaking eleven-year-olds lay and stared at that shadow-man for literally over an hour, unable to speak or turn our heads away. It's still one of the scariest experiences of my life. And if _I _was scared to death, Hinata, Kayla and Suzy must have been ready to wet their pants.

Suddenly _The Descent _feels a little more PG-rated.

**Tuesday, November 10****th**

Let me start today's entry by saying my life is pretty awesome. My grades, my mother, my friends, my life is all good. Except for this one little thing, and that is consistent, dark dreams. Nightmares, about twice a week. Every week, since kindergarten. My mother knows this and has tried to help, but nothing does, and I just have to fucking live with it. Hinata, who also knows about it, always comforts me when I have especially bad ones, bless her golden heart. Last night I had my nightmare and two of my teachers could read it on my face.

Mr. Reese, my history teacher, saw me just about breaking into a cold sweat and asked why in the middle of our notes on the Franco-Prussian War. A couple other kids stared, Sai included. I lied and said it was something I had heard earlier in the morning from someone who had a different history class: they told me that soldiers at the Battle of Vienna had bathed in virgins' blood to lengthen their lifespan (which is actually true, btw. Isn't that jacked up?) "I'm surprised that would bother a toughie like you," Mr. Reese had said. "Toughie" sounded pretty lame, but Mr. Reese is pretty old so it's excusable.

And of course Mr. Iwa noticed while I was spinning my clay wheel in 7th period today. "So what was this one about?" Oh, he is _so _subtle. I guess I let on about my frequent bad dreams sometime when he was around me. Not surprised. I talk sort of loosely around him, can't help it much.

"I was walking a tightrope over a jungle at night." I said flatly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his eyebrow go up but he replied slowly, "Okay." He put his hand on my shoulder and leaned on it. I ignored it. "I know I walked for miles on the rope, because towards the end of the dream dawn was coming, but the entire time I heard something in the trees below me. Even when it started getting light again, it was following me." Mr. Iwa put his hand over my eyes. Wisely I slowed my pace on the clay wheel so my project wouldn't go flying. "…Mr. Iwa, I can't see my vase."

"Relax for a second, yeah."

"Sure, hypocrite." I mean, honestly, this comment coming from the guy who can barely sit still for ten minutes. But he was a teacher, higher on the educational ladder of authority, which I almost always respected, and he was my favorite, so I just let him stay where he was.

I wondered, while sitting there with my eyes covered, what kind of expressions my classmates had, what expression Mr. Iwa himself had. He wouldn't be doing something mocking, would he? Was he making faces right then? I don't think so, at least not to a student he actually likes. And a new thought smacked me upside the head (mentally): Thus far Mr. Iwa had done nothing out of the ordinary, not since our date. This weird movement might be step two, I thought. But even as I thought of that weird idea I felt my tense shoulders loosening.

"I know what'd make you feel better."

"What?" I replied (still blinded, btw).

"Going out with me."

Something about the way he phrased the request made me laugh. "Yeah, fine." I said. But I couldn't just let it go like that. If I was going out with him again, I got to set a condition at least. "But I think we should eat somewhere this time."

"Olive Garden."

"What?" I giggled a little, because I was so surprised. "You like fancy, expensive Italian food? Snobby, jerkass waiters and everything?"

"They've got good food, yeah. I, for one, like food."

I chuckled at that. "I wouldn't have guessed that. You're like a twig—well, a man-twig. Girl twigs can get more like…girl-shoestrings."

"You make it sound like I'm anorexic, yeah." He tilted my head back and moved his hand from my eyes. _His _eyes, though, looked—I don't know. I don't think I'd ever seen eyes like that. "Do you know what a six-pack feels like?"

My feet went mysteriously numb. I squinted just a little and said in my best Stuffy Teacher Voice, "Mr. Iwa, that is highly inappropriate student-teacher conduct." Apparently my ruse worked and it sounded like a joke; I could hear Josh and Tanya laughing behind me. "Olive Garden is fine. But it's expensive. Our wallets will be drained."

"Sakura, every adult is America is, like, blessed with this wonderful thing called a credit card—" And that got me laughing too much to hear the rest. The bell rang a bit later and as I picked up my red messenger bag to leave, Mr. Iwa reminded me that he'd pick me up Saturday around six. My soccer practice that day would end around six, but if I drove to and from the training field instead of walking, I would probably be home before he could knock on the door and meet my mother.

Which reminds me. I really should tell her.

**Wednesday, November 11****th**

Note that up here in the Dakotas, winter comes quick and comes hard. I woke up this morning and had frost on all my windows and when I stood near them, near the outside weather, I could see my breath. Natural-born Dakotans, or even people like me who aren't natural Dakotans but have been here awhile, get used to the crazy cold temperature. But it's worth noting because cold brings snow, and snow brings snowball fights and comfy nights on the couch with hot chocolate and sledding.

Another random, useless note: When Naruto and I were thirteen we went sledding down that huge hill on Ranson Street and we went so fast we went into the street and almost got hit by a semi! It was a heart-stopping, life-flash-before-your-eyes experience, and we even got in the local newspaper for it. Truly wonderful day, that.

But anyway. My mom was in the kitchen like usual, fully dressed in fancy, crease-free business suit. We leave the house at about the same time so we eat breakfast together. I was aware talking about it now might distract her from work later in the day, but I really wanted to get this out. And it wasn't like I make her worry often so I shouldn't feel too guilty. Right? Right.

"Mom, I want to tell you something before you leave."

"Listening. Can't talk, though." my mother said with her mouth full of Frosted Cheerios.

"That won't matter. It's just one thing. One big thing, so please don't spit your food out when you hear it." Mom brushed back a black lock of hair and swallowed. Her eyes were on me. Good. I took a quick breath (deep one was too cliché.) "Do you remember a couple weeks ago I went to the movies with Catherine?" She nodded and swallowed again. "I didn't actually go with Catherine. I went with a guy. He asked me out." Mom didn't nod or swallow. "I didn't tell you because it was a…a situation where…" Goddammit, you rehearse and rehearse important speeches and they still just EFFFFF-

I put both arms on the table and leaned my head pathetically into my laced hands. I didn't want to watch. "It was Mr. Iwa. He asked me out."

"The _college student?_" she gasped. She set her spoon down but the sound scared me so much she may as well have picked up a gun. "The art teacher you talk about? The one who's always—always—" She spluttered and couldn't find an answer. I didn't blame her. There are a lot of things Mr. Iwa is always doing.

"And when he dropped me off after the movie—" Mom interrupted to wail, "He dropped you off!"—"He alluded to the fact that he plans to ask me out a lot more. Starting this Saturday. We're going to Olive Garden."

"I'll call the principal." Mom said firmly. I looked up from my hands. "Sakura, that is incredibly brash of him. Taking advantage of a teenage girl. He could be charged for sexual harassment." She stopped suddenly. "Did he touch you?" I just blinked. "Baby, please tell me if he did. It's okay to tell."

"He did _not._" I said truthfully and firmly. "If he tried, I would have told you about it and I would have told you that I gave him a roundhouse kick in the face." Did I not mention I'm capable of roundhouse kicks, and if they fail, they just turn into blunt, vicious and regular kicks? Just ask Sai.

Mom sighed. "Okay. I trust you. But I'm calling the principal no matter what." She stood up and rubbed my back with one hand while rinsing out her cereal bowl with the other. "God, Sakura, I can understand liking older men, but really…"

"Mom, I don't like him in that way! He's cute and, and that's a fact, but I'm not into him like that, okay? He's just my favorite teacher, I swear." I looked her in the eyes to make sure she got the message—I've been told my eyes are very expressive.

Rubbing my shoulder now, she said, "I know. I suppose I had your father in mind when I said that. Isn't it sad that whenever I think of you dating someone, I think of him too?" I hardly heard the second sentence. I tried to understand the first one. My father had been six years younger, not older, than my mother. She finished cleaning her bowl and gave it to me. "I'll leave a little earlier so I can have time to call the school while I'm still in the parking lot."

"What about this second date. Am I…?"

"No. You still go." I tried not to gawk in surprise. "You watch for any slipup that man makes. If he so much as puts his fork on the right side of the table, you give him that roundhouse kick." And she closed the door (scaring the hell out of Zolei, who was sleeping by it.)

When Mom came home today, around six, she went right to me (living room, Lisbon glare at Jane) and said, "He won't do anything." I knew immediately what she meant. "Principal Jiraiya said that Mr. Iwa already came to him, came to him a long time ago, and they talked about it and he said it was fine. And he refuses to take this case to the school board!" Mom's fist tightened over her purse. "Your principal married one of his own students. That's why. That's why he thinks it's not a big deal."

She started to walk away. "When you go on Saturday, kick him in the face no matter what."

**Saturday, November 14****th**

It's not a school day, but it was a soccer practice day anyway. Coach Kirk said we should all be there by three. All the members were there at more like three-thirty, but the practice was good and fun nonetheless. Holly, my fellow offense player, kicked the ball so hard the momentum moved her body. She fell flat on her back and slid forward like ten feet. Her shirt was covered in dirt and frost. And since our team (all girls) wears that typical, feminine-type shirt that shows off curves and has super-short sleeves, she felt the stuff practically clinging to her body all through practice. She complained about it constantly and I knew she wasn't just being bitchy.

I drove home in Mom's old car instead of walking like I usually would. I showered, put on a dash of vanilla perfume, and changed into one of those kind of girly shirts that are like a dress but cut to waist-length. I only liked it because it was a lovely shade of royal-blue. What to go underneath it, now? Meh. Jean capris. They're comfy and cute.

Mr. Iwa arrived, got out of the car and came over to my side—wearing clothes that were barely appropriate for fancy old Olive Garden—and showed me the newest Slipknot album. I'd already seen it. "I didn't know you were this smart." I smirked. "Getting out just so my mom can see you. She _is _watching this time."

"Blonde isn't always synonymous with retarded."

"What did I say about copying words from my vocab book?"

"Hey, you said it first! Sometime last year, yeah." His eye narrowed. "You were talking to Sai."

I narrowed my own eyes, too. "What's wrong with your eye? Going blind like the other one?"

Mr. Iwa didn't take the joke. "I don't like Sai."

"Then you're right, blonde is not synonymous with retarded."

"He likes you."

At this ridiculous idea I couldn't help but smile. Cynically, of course. "Of course. He likes me, therefore he calls me a slut and makes fun of homeless people in my presence."

"He wants your attention and you almost always give it." The eye was still narrowed.

I paused, knowing exactly what to say but wary of the answer. I spat it out before I could think of it more. "And why do you c—" I thought of a better way to voice my fears/anxieties. I tried to make it sound joking. I think I failed. "Are you one of those jealous types?"

And he grinned. He _grinned. _"You'll be around me long enough to find out, yeah." Which was just sexy, grinning Morse code code for YES.

When we got there, Deidara made a big deal about the breadsticks. This was actually his first time at Olive Garden (apparently he has at least four friends who got sick after eating there, but for me he was willing to try, and secretly, inside I did a little "aww".) and now he understood why everyone went orgasmic over them. It was fun to watch. He declared Olive Garden the best restaurant in America, (and McDonald's could burn in hell right next to fuckin' Denny's, yeah.) He got spaghetti after all the breadsticks were gone and when he was halfway done he found a particularly long noodle and let it dangle from his mouth with his eyebrows raised. It didn't take a Disney lover to know what he was implying or asking. "You wish," I chuckled, switching my fork to my left hand for now. Deidara sucked up the noodle like a little kid would, but slower so the sauce didn't spray everywhere.

I brought out twenty dollars to pay for my share and got a little pissed when he wouldn't let me use it. He insisted that he take care of it, and then paid with his credit card just like he said he would and looked really smug at doing so. When we left, it was dark and a lot of cars were moving around the lot, trying to find a place to park. We had to wait to cross since everyone in the cars were being jerkfaces and refusing to let us through. I felt a hand on my cheek and many random parts of my body went numb. I said the first thing I could, the first mood I could manage. Defensive. "No kissing."

"Yes, kissing."

This time I took a risk in not joking. "Why don't you want someone older?"

"'Cause I can have you instead, yeah. I always liked you. You're my favorite."

To all three of those I asked, "Why?" but on the favorite comment, which meant favorite student, inside I was smiling real big. I was a favorite. A real favorite.

"You're cute, yeah." Hand in my hair again. He'd been doing that a lot this year. "You don't talk bullshit. You're smart and you know it. You're fun. You care a lot, yeah. You need more? I have a lot." His hand lifted from my hair and grabbed my whole skull to turn me towards him. "Why do you need to know why?" The ensuing kiss was, firstly, my first, and secondly, totally indescribable. But I can say I kept my lips shut (fear of Frenching…) my brain began the process of melting and just before pulling back, Deidara drew his tongue across my lips. He obviously wanted to get through and obviously had no fear of Frenching and he _licked my lips, oh lord. _That was...oh.

He asked me if that was my first and I said yes and he held my hand till we got to his car. I could feel the happiness seething from him like a scent. And he kind of looked like an arrogant ass the whole walk to the car. Good job, dude, you had a girl's first kiss. Ooh.

Ooh..

We listened to Shinedown the whole way home, all of their new, brilliant and striking CD, and hardly talked. When we got back Deidara took my hand and wrote down his phone number on my palm. This I found just as significant as the kiss. Now I'm going to bed and I expect frantic, terrorized nightmares tonight.

**Tuesday, November 17****th**

I dreamed about a terminally sick girl hiding from a bear that wanted to eat her appendix. I looked forward to soccer practice all day. I was really surprised that no one asked me about the date, since Deidara had asked me out in front of a whole classroom of people just like last time. I was even more surprised that Naruto, Hinata, Tenten and Catherine all avoided the subject as well. I couldn't bring it up because I couldn't name my feelings on the whole thing.

WHAT IS UP WITH MY FEELINGS DID THEY GO ON VACATION TO NARNIA OR SOMETHING.

Brittany Fell told me that yesterday in her art class, Pottery I, Mr. Iwa had played Theory of a Deadman's "Bad Girlfriend" the entire class period and laid on an empty table, grinning like a rapist (and refusing to answer questions unless the kids came over to his table/resting spot). Still I'm not feeling much concerning him. I don't think this is a good thing. And my mom didn't even ask about the date.

If this keeps up I'm gonna have to take some Ritalin.

**Friday, November 20****th**

In gym class today we played hockey. I was on the team made mostly of clumsy oafs so I had to play offense and defense both. Aaron, the goalie, was the only other competent person on the team. He hit the puck back out of the goalie box and it hit me flat in the back and knocked me onto my stomach. Onto a cold, hard, unforgiving wooden gym floor, might I add. Ms. Voltaire was horrified and she kept asking if I'd felt anything crack when I'd been hit.

Holly talked to me as we changed out of our gym clothes and walked to art class together. Holly sat at the table to my right with three other guys. When we got there, the radio was playing softly (shortly after giving us our daily assignment, he would often pick a song from his iPod, plug it into the radio and turn the volume way up) and Mr. Iwa was laying on a table with one leg hanging off. My table. There were some snickers but the "sleeping" Mr. Iwa ignored everything and everybody till the bell rang.

"Get your stuff out from yesterday and keep forming the first mold. Garrett, go hook my iPod into the speakers and pick something from it, yeah."

"Mr. Iwa, your face is kinda where my hand need to be molding clay." I said gently.

"My face is kinda comfortable where it is, got a problem?" he said not really gently.

"Sakura, is your boyfriend starting a lover's spat over there?" cooed Garrett, which surprised me because his jokes were usually smarter than that.

"Piss off, Garrett." Mr. Iwa turned his head, which made his lock of hair move sideways thus revealing a closed left eye. "If you joke about my girlfriend, I'll throw your sculpture on the goddamned floor._"_ The utter seriousness of that shushed everyone but me. I acted on the first impulse I'd had in days. I lifted my leg, practically above the table (I'm flexible) and plopped my shoe down hard on Mr. Iwa's collarbone. He gasped but didn't look like he was in much pain. I wished I had my soccer cleats.

"Two dates don't make a couple." I stated.

"Two dates and some kissing kinda does." he replied cheekily. I pushed my foot down harder; I took satisfaction in the difficulty of his breathing. I did not take satisfaction in the look in his only opened eye. It looked as arrogant as Sai on a good day. I took my foot off and glared at the crease I'd stamped in his jacket. I turned around and found Holly had already brought me my sculpture of a cat (modeled after Zolei.)

"I'm gonna work in the hall where I can't be sexually harassed." I told everyone. I could feel my face aching to blush. I was desperately fighting to keep it normal, putting so much effort and thought into that I just didn't give a rat's ass whether some teacher saw me in the hall when I shouldn't be. I bumped against something not two feet from where I'd started. It was Mr. Iwa's legs—he had cool shoes today; I stared at them for a second—and then turned to give him my best icy glare. "Are we really gonna do this?"

"I would totally love to do this," he grinned. "Right in front of people yeah. It's way more fun."

That was _enough. _No more joking. I'd let it all slide for at least two months, and I was done. "Can you just skip over me and get a different girl? We'll both feel better and life will be a lot more awesome—"

"I am not getting a different girl." he said like I'd just suggested he bathe in ranch dressing. "I went from bitch to traitor to perfect, and I want to stay with perfect, yeah." He was sitting up now. Standing up. Moving to the door. Arms crossed, standing in front of it. I set my feline sculpture on the nearest table, Holly's, and realized it was a good move; if I had seen _that _expression in Deidara's eyes a second later, I would have dropped it. He looked like he was about to pounce on me. Deidara Iwa, pouncing. I thought about all my nightmares, from this week and last year and my whole life. Creatures pouncing and killing. Mr. Iwa pouncing and...what?

Fast as a track runner I grabbed my messenger bag and made straight for the window.

It was barely cracked but that was good enough; it meant I didn't have to open it. I jumped onto the nearby tabletop and shoved the thing open. Behind me I heard Deidara saying, "Josh, if you complain about your girlfriend again after seeing _this_, I will stab you in the mouth!" The fact that I heard all of that meant I wasn't out fast enough. In another second I was, and the cold was on me. My shirt was short-sleeved, but I didn't have time to dig my jacket out of my bag now. I was halfway to the school parking lot and beyond that the safety of the open road with cars and witnesses, but as God would have it I tripped. As I got up I looked back to see, and saw a big old rock sitting there, on its side like someone had just dropped it there so I could trip on it. And then I was flat on the ground again with a really uncomfortable weight on my back.

Anger, fear and uncertainty made me fist my hands in the frosty grass. I could see his hands, too. Bigger than mine. "What is your problem?" I yelled.

"I don't have a problem!" he yelled back just as loud. "You've never been a problem! You—" I couldn't see him (since he was ON MY BACK); I could only assume he was at a loss for words. "You're the best fucking person I—_dammit!_" He slammed one fist on the ground, hard, right next to my face. More than that, the lack of "yeahs" disturbed me. He was strange without them. "I keep trying to do stuff for you and you keep avoiding me!"

"Well, I've never been in a relationship with—" And I thrashed my whole body upwards, mid-sentence, all surprise. He was caught off-guard just as I hoped, but I didn't push hard enough. He wasn't all the way off and I did flip over but wasn't able to push myself back fast enough. Suddenly I was on my back and one of my legs was over his shoulder and he was still too, too close to me. This position looked intimate, like nothing else I'd had to deal with. This was vulnerability like nothing else. "with…my favorite teacher."

He repeated the last two words hollowly and stared at me. "Favorite teacher," I repeated after him. "I like you as the most incredible teacher I've ever had my in life. I—I never liked you the way you like me."

"That can be changed, yeah." Well, that "at a loss for words" thing didn't last long. "Please. Don't think of me as your teacher. Think of me as your _significant other._" I tried not to laugh and failed. "Think of me like that until…until Christmas break. Please." He didn't look or sound desperate, but "please" made me wary.

I stared at him. He was Deidara Iwa, too hilarious, too talented and crazy and admirable to describe. He could only be experienced. He was my favorite teacher. My favorite teacher ever. My boyfriend. "I'll try. I promise I will."

And then the most unexpected thing: (but really I should have expected it, now that I write about it) he moved forward as fast as I had run from the classroom, and tried to kiss me to death. I had NO IDEA what to do, and if it's slutty to feel my stomach rolling and cheeks warming up with my boyfriend all over me, then by God, I'm the new Ino Yamanaka. And no, I wasn't lucky enough to have all thoughts swept away from me like a regular girl. I had freedom of thought and freedom to feel every movement of Deidara's mouth and hands on me. He was making my entire body feel...heat. I think I liked it. He was on top of me, so I couldn't move like I should be able to, and that was...well...I'll sort that out in my head and write it in later I suppose.

He moved back to breathe three or four times, and on the second I tried to move my head away, get a free moment to think of how to respond, and that blonde bastard grabbed my head and held me still! Yes, there was tongue. Oh my god, there was tongue. _(Note, Jan 6: This was nothing…)_

I can only hope it took him less than ten minutes to finish his molesting session. Whenever he was done I backed up, got us out of the kinky position we'd been in for god knows how long and glared when he grabbed my arm and still kept me in his personal space. I was panting. I know, I don't know from experience, but I just know from his expression and smile, that me panting pleased him.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." he murmured. Strangely, there was no smile or smirk.

"Please don't say the first day of freshman year."

"Second day. Seriously." (OMG.)

I tried to catch my breath, tried to be angry when he saw that it took too long. "You..Y-You pervert, I was fourteen! You could _still _be charged with child molestation! Half the class was probably watching." I glared icily at the school, at all the windows I could see.

"My stepbrother and my friend from Japan were visiting when I started teaching here, yeah." Deidara said. "They noticed I was acting weird, I told 'em why, friend called me a child molester and stepbrother told me to wait, and go to the principal before anything." He pulled me a little closer and I wondered if my jeans would have grass stains. "He said I should wait four months. I didn't want to go four days."

The end of the day bell rang. "Jesus!" I barked suddenly, and kicked outward. I hit Deidara effectively in the abs and he groaned painfully. "Dammit. I'm sorry, I play soccer, I have very powerful kicks." I didn't want to tell him that I didn't want to be seen intimately with him. I helped him stand up.

"I know…I went to the games sometimes…" At this I smiled, kind of because he wasn't looking. "Yes, teachers do have lives outside of warping your young little brains…stop trying to pull me, yeah. I got fifty pounds and six years on you, I can get up by myself. By the way, I'm driving you home today."

Of course. "I'll consent if you promise no more mouth-raping in the car." I heard nothing in response. Deidara, on my right, reached around and stuck his hand in my left pocket. I glanced up at him with a frown, only half-ticked-off, and got a tongue stuck out at me in response.

This entry is still not as long as the one about me, Tenten and Toys 'R Us.

666

Wow. Lot longer than the first chapter. I had to do it to fit this all into a three-shot. It may be a four-shot anyway.

Deidara's behavior in the last entry was hard to write, especially where he sounded almost angry when Sakura first came into class. I imagine that's because both he and Sakura were feeling tension at their relationship being not quite a _relationship. _And as for the second half of that entry, I do believe if he confessed his love to anyone he would have trouble putting it to words and cuss at himself for it. Deidara's an artist, he sculpts his feelings; he doesn't monologue them like Sakura tries to do in her diary.

By the way, the movie they saw on their first date could be any generic scary movie, but I was thinking of 28 Days Later myself. Scary, and not total shit at the same time! (Just like _The Descent. _As a matter of fact, _Descent _is better. Scary movie fans, if you have any taste, rent that as soon as possible.)

Another useless note, Deidara's mentioned stepbrother and friend are Sasori and Hidan in that order. He has some American friends too but they'll never be too more than occasional side characters at best. Next chapter I plan to introduce the theme I always seem to find a place for: Sakura being physically hurt or going missing, and her loved ones searching desperately for her. Dun-dun-DUNN.

Ta...Storm


	3. And Then

I would honestly like to do review replies. I always like to do them, but honestly I don't have the time. Gotta write the story or write nothing. And you probably like that, don't you? Freaking anti-social turtles. Would you like to continue the DeiSaku? Of course you would. You're welcome.

But I'd like to note again that **Sakura's high school life is purely from my imagination.** I've read so many high school fics where you can just about get the author's daily schedule from the first half of (the typically very short) first chapter. This is not so in The Claude Monet. Except for a mention of a certain vampire book series that leans into...ahem, lemon territory sometimes. Me and Sakura both enjoy that series.

666

Within the Diary of one Sakura Haruno

666

**Sunday, November 22****nd**

Naruto invited me over to play Guitar Hero. I spent the traditional five minutes talking to his parents, who are the most adorable adult couple ever, btw. I kind of want to stalk them on Valentine's Day and see what Mr. Uzumaki (Minato) will do for his wife (Kushina) because I just know it'll be romantic and so very sweet...um, excuse my being a sucker for love. I like romance and romantic novels and...things. ANYWHOO.

After Mr. Uzumaki told me he and his wife were considering vacationing in the Caribbean, I went upstairs to Naruto's room and saw him trying to do that crazy Dragonforce song while standing on one leg, kicking the other and sticking his tongue out.

"The fuck are you doing?" I laughed. He made even Kiss look bad.

"_Rocking._" he said very gravely. I moved more into Naruto's massive room and saw his score. He'd hardly missed any of the notes. When he finished with a 94 percent he put his hand up in the air and bowed his head like so many famous rock stars I won't even bother to name them all. "Okay, now you."

I took the plastic guitar and quickly reverted the setting to easy, to which Naruto said, "Um, _no._" and tried to take the guitar away. I growled and relented, setting it to its normal mode. That, I could do all right with. I'm a doctor inside, I know it and live for it, but I can do my fair share of guitar solo-ing. That didn't mean I was awesome enough to do "Fire and Flames" right off the bat, though. I had to do two warm-up songs first. You _need _practice to tame that beast of a song.

I got ready to play the song at last, but before doing so I touched my fingers to my head and two shoulders. "O Father, who art in Heaven, I cannot graduate from Yale and become a spinal surgeon unless I score a fifty percent or better on this song, so if you could please bless my fingers with musical talent for just five minutes-" Naruto laughed too hard for me to even finish.

At the end of that screaming torment I finished with a 68 percent. In school that would be epic failure. With an amateur playing "Fire and Flames" that is just epic.

I was bursting inside with happiness like I'd just won Hopscotch in kindergarten. Hinata would have been embarrassed as hell to see me jumping up like a maniac and saying, "Heck yeah! That's right! That's RIGHT!" I'm still pretty proud of myself and I can only get better (yes?).

**Monday, November 23****rd**

Ms. Franke was upset at her Smartboard today like she is every Monday, because it hates waking up in the morning, too. Hardly anything had happened yet when Brittany Fell and me just started giggling out of nowhere and neither of us could stop, even after the Smartboard had been fixed (and after Ms. Franke picked up the eraser and it _drew a line_). Laughing on a Monday morning is good for the teenage soul. Someday I'll have to tell this to my own kids and they'll be like, "Mom. You're so amazing I just have to worship you and get excellent grades and become a lawyer or a doctor just to please you!"

During 6th period I got a text and since 6th for me is gym, I was free to lounge around the girl's locker room and answer. Guess who it was from.

Iwa: _R u free Friday nite? _

God, he texts like a twelve-year-old! Or an eighteen-year-old. It's probably just 'cause I don't do the Texting Language thing that much. I can't say why, I just never got sucked into the whole "like/lyk, are/r, boyfriend/bf" thing. I sent my replies in, you know, English.

Sakura: _Nope, big soccer game against Redstone  
_

(Like ten seconds later) Iwa: _Saturday? _

Sakura: _Depends where we're going_

Iwa: _Meh, doesnt matter_

(Here Jessica Byrd, standing in just her jeans and bra, interrupted me to ask if it was Mr. Iwa I was texting and she got all gushy and wanted to know what he was saying and told me I was the luckiest girl in school. Jessica's one of like three hundred girls who think Mr. Iwa's better/hotter than god.)

Sakura: _Can we drive my car? I need practice._

Iwa: _Anything u want._

The above text could either be really lame or really sexy. I can't help but think latter considering the fact that I'd just finished reading a J.R. Ward book last period. Of course the one book I read that's fiction makes me think this guy wants me like a vampire. I texted Deidara the whole way to art class (tactfully hid the phone when I saw a teacher coming my way down the hall) and when I turned the corner to the art/gym hallway I could barely see him in the classroom with his cell in his hand, his back turned. Another kid in my class, Andrew, stopped near him to do that handslap/high-five thing that boys do to their other boy friends (lol boyfriends~), but Mr. Iwa didn't look too interested in it that time.

At that moment I had a pretty nice idea...I grinned a little and whisked back behind the corner, glad I was wearing my black and white Converse, my least-squeaky pair of shoes. I texted Deidara again and quietly, stealthily made my way into the art room: _Guess what. _

He unsuspectingly said back: _Whut _

And then the ace in the hole: _Hi_

He stared at the phone for a second while everyone else in the class grinned at him, and me standing behind him. He looked so painfully _blonde_, I can just imagine his confused face! He turned after fifteen-ish seconds and saw me right behind him, and that I'd played a cute little joke on him. He looked so surprised and happy to see me you'd think I'd brought him a cake and a hundred bucks. He told me to go to my seat.

Later in the class someone started a conversation about Deidara's tradition of making his own clay creations into fireworks, because he wanted to know if his5th grade sibling could come watch too. This is something he told us on like the first day of freshman year and everyone thought it was awesome and wanted to watch him do it, and Vanessa and Garrett and me and a bunch of other kids all went to the park to watch him do it the summer after freshman year and it really was amazing, but his face after my little cell phone prank today sticks in my mind more than any of that.

Oh. And Thursday me and my mom will probably have our traditional TV dinner for Thanksgiving since the only living member of our family doesn't live in America. We might invite Mom's friend Nicole, since she's single and without even a goldfish for company. My mom makes the _best food ever, _especially on Thanksgiving and I just can't wait I repeat can't freaking wait to eat her homemade stuffing!

**Friday, November 28****th**

Jesus that game was freaking intense! I practically had an orgasm! It was dark out and only the giant lamp post…things…lit up the field! I was sweating and I was panting and I was furious at Hedgeway High's offense player who had blocked my last two goal attempts.

Our team huddled together at the edge and decided on a move, Coach Kirk got the audience doing that "Mighty, mighty tigers!" thing from those Frosted Flakes commercials. I could feel the people stamping their feet in the stands from halfway across the field, those vibrations were so strong. I think I saw Cooper Flint, who told me in second period today he was betting twenty dollars on me making the winning goal. He'd painted his face our school colors and was screaming like a drunkard. Okay I don't approve of drunkard anything, but he looked awesome.

I ran first, way in front of Holly so I could fake an attempt to get the ball, a feint. I raised my leg and the other guy was about to shove it away from me but I shot sideways at the last minute, practically hung in midair and Holly caught up. She surprised the other guy and slammed it to the left where Lindsay was waiting to catch and pass it to Marie.

Half an hour later, it was halftime. The players retreated to their corners for beverage breaks and spectators went to the bathroom and refilled their popcorn at the stand. I was standing by the bench, chugging Gatorade with my eyes closed, savoring every cherry-flavored drop when I heard a camera flashing to my left. I looked and saw Bryan von Poll standing next to me. I had wondered for weeks if he was in Yearbook or even Newspaper, and apparently it was true. I wonder if that picture will be in the yearbook or something. Well, hopefully I could make a better one! I did the peace sign with my fingers and smiled and he took another picture. However, he looked less happy to be taking this second one. Kind of...nervous, in fact. Huh. He ran off pretty fast, too. I may have to ask someone about that later. But for now...game time. Time to kick ass.

When I got back into the game I scored the winning goal ten minutes later…by jumping forward onto my hands, and in the process of doing a flip, the ball hit my shoe and I slammed it into the goal fast as a fucking rocket! It was the most epic moment in soccer history! And it's not illegal, either!

An orgasm cannot possible be more powerful than that.

As I read that sentence again I realize it looks like the statement of an innocent twelve-year-old. And I wrote in pen. Shit. Thank god no one will ever read this.

**Saturday, November 29****th**

My phone made its texting ring right next to my face early this morning because I had been too tired to go plug it in over on my desk. It was 7:40, way too early on a Saturday for someone to text me, even Naruto.

Iwa: _Shit. Have 2 go meet my prof. 4 a progress report. Dont know when ill b dun._

What, did he plan to go out for breakfast? As soon as I thought "breakfast", Zolei jumped onto my bed and lay next to my pillow. I let him stay there because way over there I probably couldn't smack him off the bed. I slept till a little before nine and spent the morning reading manga like a total nerd (Sssh!). And since my mom was working I was free to make loud squealy noises whenever Kaname snuggled Yuki. Or hugged her or touched her hair. Whatever he did with Yuki I stared obsessively at. (Again, ssssshh!)

Nobody called me the whole day so I just chilled at home, playing with Zolei and my cheap plastic soccer goal in the backyard. Around noon I studied my French worksheets for reviewing the past tense, and sat in front of Zolei and told him _"Il est allé dehors," _and _"Il a vu le film," _to make sure he knew how to say them, too, in case he ever met a French cat. For lunch I read the brunch recipes my mom keeps in the folder by the fridge and made myself a little bowl of chicken stew. I was nowhere near as good as Mom. After that I read the newspaper and even found a pretzel stick that I could pretend was a pipe, so I sat in the chair reading the paper and puffing/eating my pretzel/pipe. All I needed was a fire and a velvet chair.

And, um...I kind of didn't think of Deidara even once till he called me around 3:30. I was outside walking with Nickelback playing softly on my iPod and felt the phone vibrate. I picked up quickly and felt shame…a lot.

"Hey!" I said, faking carefree-ness or cheer or...something.

"Hey, is this Sakura?" said a completely unknown voice.

"...I don't know. Who is this?"

"Uh, I'm Hayden, Dei's friend." I stifled a smirk. Deidara sometimes jokes about this guy, who is really freaking tall. Which must mean he's like 6'3, because Deidara's a pretty decent 5'11, hair included. "Yeah, this is some serious awkwardsauce. Dei's passed out in the lobby. Goddammit, June, stop fondling him!"

After keeping myself from laughing I replied, "He's—why?"

"There's this fever goin' around town that just makes you pass out outta nowhere. My parents said it's even in the paper." And of course, I remembered reading something like that at home about two hours ago. "He looks okay except that he's sweaty and, you know, unconscious. You're his girlfriend, right?" I said yes. Quicky. I'm not comfortable with just, like, announcing that to the world ey. "He just finished up a report with our professor and we were walking and he just fucking fell down. You should probably drive him home. He'd be way happier if you did it than me or June."

"Yeah, I can come get him." I said after a sigh. "I'm just a mile or two away from the college. It's not a long run for me."

I got there quick enough, I guess. Two other guys in hoodies smirked appreciatively at me as I went up the front steps (god, guys these days should just have whores for pets instead of dogs). I shoved open the heavy, fancy-looking door and found a black-haired guy with ripped jeans and a lip piercing waiting there with a girl holding a little white purse. Deidara was laying on a bench just behind them.

"Wow," he chuckled when he saw me jogging in. "You're seriously a high schooler."

This college guy/high school girl thing still makes me uncomfortable so I said kind of tartly, "You didn't believe him?"

"No, I did, it's just different seeing you in person. You look just like he says."

No need to ask how I had been described. No need. None.

That (possible) fucker I'll punch him in the mouth when I find out what he told them.

I went over to Deidara and June and tried to pick him up, and he moaned like he had a hangover. Hayden came over without me asking and helped me drag him to his car. The one with doors that go up, remember, even the two back ones. We stuffed him in the back like…well kind of like we were kidnapping him. It was kinda funny! Hayden wrote down some sketchy directions to his house and June acted really surprised that I didn't know where he lived. Whatever. I had this sudden vision that he would beat me to death for ruining his car. I flicked the radio on (Led Zeppelin. Nice!) and turned the volume down to to relax myself.

I can't describe how nervous I was at ruining his expensive car, at driving along Limestone's busiest street, which might as well be an interstate, there are so many people doing 80 and honking. I swear twice I almost crashed and by the time I reached the apartment complex my hands were shaking and I couldn't still them for the life of me. Thank God there was no one around.

There was a quaint little garage all the tenants shared and I parked in the space Hayden had said was his before dragging Deidara out of the car towards the elevator. He was half-awake and trying to walk now and that helped us get in faster. Again, thank God no one was around. They'll seriously think I drugged and kidnapped him. I took his keys and unlocked room 208.

The place isn't that messy, I guess. I didn't expect a twenty-two-year-old guy to have a spotless home but I suppose this is decent. There were some little sculptures standing in random corners and even on the floor, and there were beer bottles in the trash can but honestly I expected both of those things. I dropped his godforsaken carcass non-gently on the sofa, wondered if I should lift weights a little more, and then my medical instincts kicked in. A sweaty, sick person should not be wearing a stifling jacket in a room that was already warm. I unzipped it and ripped it off.

Wow. Deidara Iwa is not quite as skinny as I thought. _Mrow!_

I thought to myself, '_Should I leave now? His friends will fill him in eventually. He might bring it up on Monday. Let all of seventh period know. And then the whole school.' _I decided to stay. My mom wouldn't be home for another couple hours anyway. I felt I deserved some payment for my almost-car-wrecks so I picked around his apartment for fun. I found pictures of birds on his desk (his sculptures were often of birds) a printed-out letter from his stepbrother, totally in Japanese (since I emigrated around age seven, I understood about seven percent of it) two Playboy magazines (…) a lot of hair care products (which he needs I guess for his unique style) and some Axe (Yeah, I _totally_ did not expect that one.)

At about 3:55 I heard him moving around in the other room. I gasped in horror since I was looking at the Playboy (what? Shut up!), arranged it just like it had been on the chair, and nonchalantly made my way over. He was sitting up, looking tired, and then suddenly saw me and was amazed at the fact that I'd appeared from around the corner. "What…are you doing here?"

I thought about saying, "I drove you home," since he'd find that cute, but instead said, "You passed out after your meeting with your professor. Hayden used your phone to call me."

"And you drove me home?"

"I did need the practice." I grinned a little and sat near the bar on the opposite side of the room. On the floor. "I almost crashed twice on Hudson Road. Your car's accelerator's more sensitive than rice paper. I _thought _about touching it, and I was suddenly going sixty."

He looked a little less tired and sweaty. "Sakura, there's a perfectly comfortable and very roomy couch in this room, yeah."

"With a sick person on it. No thanks."

"I'm not sick. I feel okay now."

"You know how many cancer victims have said that?" I got up and went to his fridge to steal something to drink. There was a convenient pack of Sprite there and I snagged one before going back to my floor spot. I hadn't even sat down when I saw him looking at me. Just like he had the day I'd jumped out the classroom window. I knew that look now. Inside me I felt fire building.

Dammit.

"If you wanna fuck a high school girl, it's not like you don't have a lot of choices." I barked suddenly. "Ino or Mariah or Jessica, take your pick. Just not the one that _wants _to stay a virgin at sixteen." I realized (I think) that was a big part of the reason why I'd been so uncomfortable with him. I don't want my favorite guy in the world to use me.

No reply came then. Just a face. A totally WTF face. And then also maybe-surprisingly, he cried, "What? _What? _You actually think that?"

"Before I go, since you're okay," I went on, feeling...something bad, "why did you ask me to think of you as 'significant other' till Christmas break? Was there something you planned to do then?"

"There _is _something I _still _plan to do, mm." he replied steadily. "The tickets for Rockfest were supposed to go on sale three days ago. I thought I could get some before Christmas break. So you could go with me."

And only then did my freakish emotions kick in. Return from Narnia. The number of girls, and guys, who had asked Deidara to go to next summer's Rockfest—_Rockfest_, Deidara's yearly and practically religious gathering—with them numbered in the hundreds. Everyone knew that. And our school only contained six hundred kids. I set my Sprite down and fell back onto my little floor spot. I didn't know if I should thank him for putting up with me so long, or apologize for being such a suspicious bitch since day one.

Somewhere in my self-pity/hate-filled mess of a mind I heard him talking to me. "Come here," I think he said. Even if I'd misheard I went right over there and enveloped him in the most apologetic, begging-for-forgiveness hug ever.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry—" I went on and on and got a very forgiving and affectionate hug in return, or at least it felt that way. It felt like he didn't want me to leave. It felt warm.

"Don't care, don't care, don't care, don't care," Deidara said a little snappishly, rubbing the back of my head. "Actually, mmm…" I knew almost word for word what he was about to say. "You called it something…something…mouth-raping." Yup. I _so_ called it. "Let me do that to you again and I'll completely forget this, mm." He let me move back a little, so I could look him in the eye and answer. I looked him the eye, (innocently) terrified, but couldn't answer. For a couple seconds.

"…You want to pin me to a sofa and molest me."

"Actually, I want to eat you." I kept staring, like he'd just said "behead" instead of "eat. "But the government doesn't like that if you're under eighteen. So I'll wait."

"You think we'll be together that long?" Together. TOGETHER. Wow. At this he scoffed and slowly pushed me down till my head was comfortably on the armrest. I rested my arms on my flat stomach, since I had no idea how to really…you know, ready myself. How does one prepare to be molested by an older man? Deidara muttered, "Yeah. Yeah, I do." and freaking attacked me.

He went for my neck first, which I didn't expect at all. I don't know if I was holding on to him or trying to push him off, but whichever it was, I was saying, "Stop, stop!" even though we both knew he wouldn't. He was being very cat-like, licking me and purring and even rubbing his body against mine just like cats do to other cats they like. I was acting like a kitten too, making mewling sounds that I could barely control, and only seemed to make my attacker more eager. Then he took hold of my right arm and held it above my head, as though it had actually been causing him some trouble, and proceeded to start the mouth-raping. Just like last time, he wouldn't let me move. I was to stay there, let him kiss the living hell out of me and throw in some Frenching while he was at it and lord above it my brain didn't melt then, if all of me didn't melt then, then throw me into a volcano, it can't be any different.

When he was done (how long did that last?) he whispered, "How much longer can you stay?"

"Hour…little more." I gasped, my head lolling to the side. I felt a sweet little kiss on my collarbone and tried not to blush.

"Will you?"

"Will you drive me home?" He smiled at me and it was just shy of gorgeous. And the attack started again.

As it turned out, before I left, my mom called and said she was on here way home. She also asked where I was. I was still too dizzy and dazed from the fondling-fest to lie about it. I told her where I was and she quietly asked for directions to the place. I gave them. I hung up. Deidara looked at me and saw my sunken, horrified eyes, like I'd condemned myself to death. He didn't know anything about the conversation, but he hugged me anyway and we stood there for a little bit, together like that. It was nice. He did eventually ask me what was up, however.

"Oh. I'm...I'm going to be hanged." I said.

My mom arrived fifteen minutes later in the apartment complex parking lot. She asked me to stand on the other side of the parking lot while she spoke to Deidara. I stood there and looked at their small figures conversing, and was surprised to hear no screaming at all. They both signaled me over again. Mom announced that if Deidara ever did anything to displease me, my mom would buy a gun from one of the sleazier types at her Sprint office and shoot him herself. And if anyone ever found out, my mom and me would deny everything. This we all agreed on, and I was driven home while my mom told me a funny story her friends told her at work today. My God, this is so long my pen's running out of ink.

**Wednesday, December 2****nd**

Today I was walking from the bus to the school building when Sai sauntered up next to me. I could see his friends out of the corner of my eye, probably waiting for him to set me off and get us (I mean me) into trouble. I couldn't let it happen today. Officer Margot, our school's assigned police officer, was standing next to the entrance, just waiting for some kid to explode so he could do something besides watch us walk.

"So, girl, you screwed Mr. Iwa yet?" I heard the snickers behind me.

"Nope, not yet." I replied airily, taking my iPod's ear buds out of my ears.

"You better get to it," the pale sophomore advised, putting an arm around my shoulders. I slowly turned to glare at him. I didn't even try to put hate into that gaze; it went in by itself. "I hear Ino Yamanaka invited him to this strip club where she works weekends. Have you seen that girl's tits? Little Miss A-cup, you don't have a chance in hell."

I am a B-cup with almost every brand of bra out there. I think a smallish chest is good for female athletes. It hurts the chest less to move around. If I write one more sentence on that subject I'm gonna bite the head off of something.

"And you think you do, Mister Four Inches Long?" I growled. Sai Marek and penis jokes go way back. "Mr. Iwa's not into little boys, sorry to say. I'm pretty sure it's just pink-haired girls. And I'll be fucking him way before any woman with a brain fucks _you._ So, Sai," I stopped just out of Officer Margot's hearing range. "Go fuck yourself."

I was seething with fury the entire day. Thank god Ino didn't bother me today, I might just have exploded on her and Margot would have had to drag my thrashing body into the principal's office like that one day in freshman year. Mr. Reese gave me a peppermint candy because he noticed I looked "pissy as a hissy rattler" and I took the very hard candy and crunched it to bits with my canines while he and a lot of other kids watched. Emma Johanson, gave me a knowing and understanding look before turning back around. Some boy behind me made a period joke and when Mr. Reese wasn't looking I took a spare hairtie from my bag and shot him right in the eye. Carlos congratulated me after class when I got away with it. ; )

Oh. And Deidara looked normal today (showing off his "raw" new shoes) but suddenly looked really sad when he came over to me and said the tickets still weren't on sale yet. It looked like only Garrett and Holly knew what he was talking about but when I was heading for the buses after school like eight other kids huddled around me asking stuff.

"Does he mean Rockfest tickets?"

"Sakura, are you going with him?"

"Are you gonna sneak out next summer to go or will your mom just let you?"

"Does she know about you and Deidara yet?"

I answered "yes", "probably", "I hope she'll let me but if she doesn't, it's not like it's hard for me to sneak out" and "Yeah, she knows and I think she's okay with it" all very promptly. When I got on the bus some other kids still wanted to talk about it, even congratulate me, and I was okay with continuing the conversation about the two of us. For once.

And then my mom made Shepard's pie for dinner tonight and it was like _orgasm in the mouth. Really. _I gave some to Zolei and he was like, "Moww, Mrrrooooooooooowww!" which might mean he climaxed. God only knows.

**Sunday, December 18****th**

Haven't written in here in awhile because I lost the diary! I apologize and kowtow like fifty times! To myself. I guess.

I noticed its absence on the night of the 4th. I always write in here at night, usually sitting on my bed or my rolly-desk-chair, so I can write about every little interesting thing that happened in the daytime. (Interesting shit usually doesn't happen to me after midnight. Except for that one Toys R' Us adventure with Tenten. ANYWAY.) It's usually in the top-left drawer of my desk, which I keep double-padlocked, but it wasn't. Immediately I assumed the worst: Sai had come in here somehow and stolen it, and would expose every private thought I'd ever had. Yes, that is a possibility!

I searched and searched every inch of my room, even found that Japanese-imported Eevee figure I've been looking for since last July and I think in the process I made my rather neat room a lot messier. I cleaned it up as though I would be hanged once I was done and still no diary.

Days and days went by. We lost a soccer game partially because I was so hung up and worried, and partially because our goalie had a cold that day and sneezed whenever a ball came close to her. Deidara spent half of one class rubbing my shoulders (and petting me...) and I refused to tell him why I was so nervous and scared and I think that made him scared, too.

Then just ten minutes ago I found it stuck inside my first-year French binder. I remember now, sticking it in there after writing in it on the 4th and thinking, "Oh, this way I'll remember where I hid my diary and I'll remember to review my old French lessons, too." I didn't remember. Which is kind of creepy since I haven't forgotten anything so important in literally years. Now I'll stick it back in the drawer where it belongs and start my history and French homework. French first. Cause it's funner. _J'aime apprendre le français._

And let's not forget my dream about falling out of a hot air balloon and being smashed to twenty-seven pieces when I hit the ground, being declared dead, and my limbs being given to people who needed prosthetic ones. I was dead and yet not dead because pieces of my brain and heart had been donated, but I'm not sure what happened to my soul. I woke up so confused and terrified I just about cried.

**Monday, December 19****th**

Only three days of school this week! We're probably going to do elementary Christmas projects/games in half our classes. I know Ms. Franke said we'd spend the whole time watching _Finding Nemo _if she can keep her Smartboard working for three days. Today it worked fine (Omg!) and we got almost all the way up to Dory's whale talk. ("WAAAAAH! WHUUUUHHH!") And if it doesn't work in one of the next two days, she promises she'll bring in a bunch of board games. Which is funner than taking notes on the gas laws. To most people.

**Thursday, December 20****th**

Today was special in the worst way possible. Ino Yamanaka started a fight with me for the second time this year. I didn't write about the first one because I hoped we'd stop communicating forever and be happy to never speak to each other, but apparently that dream wasn't meant to be.

It was during first period, chemistry, and I wanted a break from playing Twister (Ms. Franke's Smartboard died again.) with Cooper and Tyler, who are real muscly and hard for even me to twist around. I got a bathroom pass and went to the nearest bathroom. I didn't usually bother my hair too much, but I found this ridiculous tangle that just wouldn't come out, so of course I tried to straighten it out. I was just finishing up when I smelled perfume so sensual and subtle it had to be Victoria's Secret, and then the greater of two evils came strutting in with a couple generic, stylish sidekicks.

"How's the drugs, pink bitch?" She was probably referring to my shirt. I was wearing my LSD shirt from freshman year. Even Ino knew the joke now.

I smoothed down my hair with wet hands to calm myself. "Dunno. What's your mom say about 'em?"

She was _this close _to exploding. The little compact mirror she held almost cracked in her nail-polished hand. "That's the best you can do, you little slut? Mom jokes?"

"I'm not wasting the good ones on you."

"You probably save _the good ones _for Deidara. How many times have you fucked him since freshman year?" Ino said. Beside her, Sidekick #1 intelligently added, "Everybody knows he wants you."

"People who like each other don't spend every minute of the day fucking each other, Ino. But it's not like I expect you to know that!" I wiped my wet hands on her top, making sure to brush a nipple, and left the bathroom. I spent the rest of the day wondering how many other kids thought the same thing Ino did. I wondered how many had the balls to come up and ask me, and also how many had the balls to come up and ask me with curiosity and not jealousy.

**Wednesday, December 21****st**

Today while eating lunch with Naruto and Hinata I was poking my chicken nuggets and I said, "Geez, this thing is long. If I eat this I may as well be doing oral."

"You know you want it, Sakura." Naruto said, and sucked desperately on his own nugget even though it wasn't that long.

"Ah yes, I nearly forgot I often fantasize about fucking a chicken. The voices are always telling me I should."

And Hinata quipped, "You should see a doctor about that." Which made us laugh so hard I almost choked on the nugget, so it really was like I was doing oral.

Naruto, nonsensitive to my choking, was all, "Oh! Oh! Need some ICE for that burn!" It was actually really really funny. These kids sitting at the table next to us, all freshmen we barely know, were laughing too and we talked together for the last few minutes of lunch about…you know, chickens and sex. Normal teen stuff.

A little later, in gym, we were running laps around the edges of the gym and Danny tripped and fell against me. We both fell into a little pile of metal rods and blocks that some douchebag janitor had probably left there. I think it was some disassembled machine from the weight-lifting room and me and Danny both got a couple bruises and cuts from falling in it. He apologized and I said it was okay because it didn't really hurt, but the cut on my leg didn't stop bleeding, even after I'd changed out of my gym shorts.

When I got to pottery class, Deidara stared horrified at me and I saw a red spot on the calf of my jeans from the cut that was still bleeding. The three bruises were all on my arms, free for him to see. Maybe he thought I fought someone. I told him I'd just been pushed into a pile of metal in gym class and I wasn't hurting. But thinking about it, that makes a pretty lameass story and I spent the whole class reassuring Deidara that I was okay and no, I hadn't been in a fight, and no, even if I was, I wouldn't need his help. Which was kind of annoying since he was letting us finish a movie in class we'd started Monday and I didn't want Prime and Megatron's fight interrupted, even for Deidara's worrying.

The movie ended with the Linkin Park song that I know Deidara really likes but he ignored it. He crouched next to my seat and kept whispering to me. This time I really listened. "I still couldn't get them, mm. I'm sorry." His expression was truly one of the sorriest I'd ever seen. He really had wanted to get those tickets for us.

"They have to be sold sometime." I tried to make him feel better. "Just the fact that you want to take me means a lot." I smiled for happy effect and I think it worked. He fondled my hair, which I see now he loves to do.

"They _are _being sold, yeah. Every two hours on the radio someone calls in and gets to listen to a music clip and guess the band. There's like a freaking million left and less than twenty have been sold." (I secretly doubt the "million" part.) Still. I had to do something to make him feel better.

"...You want to do something on break?" I asked. "You could…come to my house. You may not like my romance selection, but I have some scary movies to choose from, too."

There was a little smirk. (and to my left I could see Josh, Vanessa and Holly all watching us. Not even Vanessa, always an open Deidara Iwa fan, looked pissed.) "Your mom won't shoot me?"

"You kiss me in front of her and we'll both shoot you." I promised. "But we should do it tonight or tomorrow. If it's really close to Christmas Eve or Day, she'll be pissed at you for intruding on family time."

"Tomorrow's better. Tonight this senior kid in Pottery II is taking me to a strip club." After me and Cooper and Vanessa all cried out, laughing, "Um, what?" Deidara explained, "He's turning eighteen and he wants to take his friends, and me, to a strip club, yeah. It sounds like it'll be funny. And I'll be at your house eight o' clock-ish." The bell rang and Mr. Iwa proceeded to say goodbye, hug, do that high-five-hand-slap thing that boys do, and a lot of other shit to all the kids that wanted to wish him a merry Christmas. I was grabbed when I was almost out the door, dragged back three feet and given a kiss in front of everybody. Totally not embarrassing. I didn't blush or act irritated or anything, nope. No.

I asked Hinata to ride the bus home with me today so we could watch Lost together. We listened to Enya the whole bus ride to my house and when we got home and out of the freezing cold my mom came out of the living room to say, "Hi, Hinata. Oh, Sakura, you look cute!" and then just leave. My mom calls me cute very often, which is normal, I think. I get it from somebody besides her five or six times a month. Nowadays Deidara does it more than anybody else.

Oh. Ben is a fucking _mastermind, _btw_. _I love him, he's my absolute favorite character on the show. His actor deserves an Academy Award for every last little performance. Hinata likes (ahem, liked) Charlie, who's a bit like Naruto, I've noticed.

Hm. Patrick Jane versus Ben Linus. Winner is...?

**Sunday, December 25****th**** CHRISTMAS!**

I got the soccer cleats I wanted! I thanked my mom the entire day and she chastised me for being an abnormal teen and not wanting a whole bunch of other shit. She got me gift cards to my favorite bookstores and Dick's Sporting Goods and even the local pizza joint. She also gave me a handmade card with a picture inside, of Zolei the month-old kitten in a snowman-pattern stocking, and seven-year-old me finding him on Christmas morning. The little snowflake and candy cane cutouts on the card were trim and lovely also. (My mom the chef/food craftmaster is also a scrapbooker/paper-and-scissors-and-stickers-master.)

And then there was me giving her this little poorly-wrapped DVD set of Rachel Ray's best televised recipes, which I'd secretly bought, and she acted like I'd gotten her the cure for cancer. Zolei got a new toy and a little pile of Christmas ham in his bowl. And also some luvs. (I always give my cat some luvs but on holidays he gets extra extra luvs~)

Naruto called me a little after noon to proudly announced that his mom had gotten him Guitar Hero: Metallica. Which he says is awesomer than Aerosmith. Catherine texted me a list of shoes, jeans and books she'd gotten (Gucci, Abbey Dawn, Dean Koontz) and then sent a super-long text about the roses her boyfriend came over to give her. It made me think of Deidara, and I felt a little sad around nighttime to find he hadn't sent me so much as a text. I mean he made a pretty big deal about liking me...a lot. You'd think he'd text just once.

Then again, on our movie night (Mom hadn't even shown her face that night) he gave me the Linkin Park album that he refused to give away even when a guy in his first period offered him sixty dollars. His return gift was a kiss. On the cheek, and the hug I gave afterward was quite awkward/lame/inexperienced, but still. I took the initiative and I know he appreciates.

It's just past midnight. Today was a great, white(/cliché) and almost-below-freezing Christmas. Goodbye, Santa.

**Thursday, December 29****th**

Today it was really, really cold, but also sunny. There was still snow everywhere. Naruto called around ten in the morning and asked if I wanted to come over and make a snow fort. We haven't done a serious snow fort since we were twelve so I agreed, eager to see how our fort-making skills were nowadays. Hinata was away in Japan seeing relatives, so he called Catherine over to help us. We made three six-feet-tall walls and two turrets and half the structure was pure ice (god that hurts to pack down…and get hit with…) and then suddenly it started to snow, really hard. As in, if school were in session this week it would be canceled to fast you'd blink and miss it, hard. All of went inside Naruto's house. Naruto's dad was watching the weather and said that a really bad blizzard was expected so both me and Catherine should get home right away. He drove us home himself and four times his brakes wouldn't work. Once we careened right up into someone's front lawn. We were too scared to laugh.

I was dropped off after Catherine, and the wind blew me over twice before I got to the front door, and the lock had ice on it so I had trouble there, too. My jacket and gloves did almost nothing to make me warm. Ten minutes after I got in (Zolei, a reasonably scaredy cat, kept by me the whole time) I looked out the window to find the afternoon had turned as dark as midnight. It was a real Dakota storm. I made some warm soup, and miraculously it made me feel better.

Deidara texted me around 4:20. All in caps. Ooh, important! _UR ALRITE? _

Sakura: _Safe at home. You? _

Iwa (his last name is his official texting name, got a problem?): _Stuck at the college. Could b worse._

My mom had to work today but came home two hours early. She said she would have been home even sooner if she could have driven faster across the slippery roads. We hung around the living room reading and watching House with flashlights by our sides in case the electricity went out. It did around 7:00 for a few minutes but was all right the rest of the night. Around nine Mr. Iwa (when was the last time I called him that?) texted me again: _Still ok?_

Sakura: _Yes silly!_ _I'll let you know if I get in mortal danger, kay? : ) _

I could see him smiling like he did that time I'd texted him the word "hi" from two feet behind him. But then Zolei went "myoooooowww" because he was hungry and suddenly I thought of Zolei mauling Deidara. Which was dumb, since on the 21st when they'd met each other Zolei had hung around him a lot. But still, kind of funny.

Reminds me of when I was seven and I met Naruto's old cat, Kyuubi. Naruto advised I put a sock on my arm so Kyuubi's claws couldn't hurt me. I was wearing a (Blastoise. : D ) tanktop at the time and my shoulders and area-between-shoulder-and-elbow was exposed. Kyuubi climbed the sock and dug his claws into my skin. Hurt much.

**Tuesday, January 3****rd**

Oh my god. I can't believe this. I can't believe this. I have to write this down while I still can.

The snow from a few days ago is still there. It's still really really cold and cloudy. But no blizza rd ss. Sorry. Had to stop for the pain. Have to keep writing.

My mom's friend Nicole invited us to go out to eat tonight at 6:00. Her car broke down so while it's getting fixed Mom said she could drive us there. We were supposed to go to Olive Garden, which my mom likes to get a little formal for. My mom used some fancy lipstick and was wearing a really nice coat but I just picked my shoes with the least dirt on them and a favorite red tee. Okay, a red tee with a pretty collar. I think it's cute.

We were driving to Nicole's. My mom was driving and muttering about how the snow plows weren't doing their job. I was playing Pacman on my phone. Balancing it on my diary, which I thought I could write in to pass the time. Because Olive Garden takes so long to get you your food. We were on Hudson Road. It's Limestone's busiest road and it's where I almost crashed Deidara's car. This time it really happened.

We were in the fast lane (I think.) and someone hit us from the side. We spun three hundred and sixty degrees and were completely backward, now facing oncoming traffic and our hearts were in our throats. My head slammed into the dashboard and I could feel blood seeping from my forehead down over my eye. The car that had been behind us hit us in the face and then another one from the side. We were screaming. Screaming so loud I couldn't hear anything anyway.

My mom yelled, "Get out! Get out!" And I tried to. I opened the door, felt the cold air and smelled hot gas as the same time, and felt something hit me from behind. I honestly don't know if it was a car or a body.

I rolled and rolled and rolled. Probably across the highway. Some cars might have swerved to avoid me and added more cars to the pileup. I couldn't hear anything but roaring in my ears so I do n't kno w w

God this hurts.

I fell through a hole and landed at the vertex of what feels like an L curve. It feels too smooth and clean to be a sewer. Some kind of pipe. Feels like stone but is cold like metal. Maybe just because of the season. Or weather. Or how far north this town is. I can see a little pale hole above me. It looks as big as the moon in the sky. Maybe a little bigger. It's kind of orange on the left side. Some of the cars must still be on fire. When I first looked up at that hole I didn't know if I should scream for help. Everyone who really needed help was still on the road. Or going up in flames. I probably wouldn't be heard over here. Wherever here is.

But before I even looked up at the hole I looked down my body to my left leg. I can see bone sticking straight out of the knee, just like that girl in _The Descent. _Naruto's movie is still haunting me, goddammit. The bone is splotched with red. Just like my pants. And even twitching in pain hurts so much I can't stop crying. There is a blood stain on the diary entry before this one already and this one will probably have tear stains on it before long.

I'm so glad this book miraculously made it with me down here. It's the only good thing. There are so many bad things already. My mom could be dead. I could be an orphan now. My stupid rolling across the road act could have killed people and I could be accused of manslaughter. I'm in so much pain I can barely breathe. If I'm ever foun d a nd rescued this leg could be amputated. I'll never play soccer, never walk, never truly live. My cell phone is fully charged, in one piece and is sitting six inches away from my damaged leg. I think if I reach for it, I'll hurt so much I'll die. Everything I've ever learned about the medical field is reminding me that, yes, you can die from just shock. Or just pain. And now I know that for sure.

Somehow it was hard to believe a person could die from pain alone. Now, staring at my phone so close to me, I think I can.

It's ringing now.

666

Whew! Done! What comments have we this time?

I know I have to say something about the random spaces between words in Sakura's last entry. When she suffers a random spasm of pain or even a bad twitch, she's overcome by such agony that she can't see straight, and certainly not write straight. Sakura's bone sticking out of her leg is an injury called a compound fracture, which I first saw in the movie "The Descent" and ugly as it is, it always amazed me in a terrible, dark way, and seemed like the most painful injury that you can consciously suffer. How terribly ironic this happens to Sakura just after her life is going so dang well.

Hm. What else? A. I honestly don't know if Sakura's epic flip-kick goal is illegal in soccer and if it is, let's just look the other way. B. Now you know Deidara's really a kid inside, just because of the way he texts. Sad that it's not a childish behavior, but a normal one. And then there's Sakura, the texting-non-conformist… C. There are like a dozen different Rockfests around the country; I don't know which one Deidara and Sakura are going to. I'll make something up when I have to. D. Finally we get a reason for Sakura's odd emotions with Deidara: she's afraid of being taken advantage of, which is logical, is it not? What does the average college boy want from a girl, particularly a high schooler? Glad Deidara sorted out that one. He didn't even have to get off the couch.

Guess this'll be a fourshot. You guys are lucky I have trouble writing short fics. See you soon.

Ta…Storm


	4. Later

Here's yet another installment of The Claude Monet. Will this have the satisfying conclusion you wish for the story to have? I doubt it. Because it's not done yet. Surprise, it's not a four-shot!

Man, you're lucky I have such trouble making stories short. Did you know I once tried to enter a oneshot contest where the limit was two thousand words, and I literally _couldn't _make my story's plot fit that?

666

Within the Diary of One Sakura Haruno

666

**Maybe January 3****rd****? **

I'm not sure about the date this time since I can't see my phone's time. It's cold as the North Pole down here and I'm shivering so much my handwriting doesn't even look like it's mine. I'm sitting in bloody jeans and a jacket with half a sleeve torn off, and the tee below that is no fuzzy cashmere sweater. If the pain of my broken leg doesn't kill me, hypothermia will. How long does hypothermia take to kill, again? I know this. I know.

This is even affecting my brain, see? I would know that in a snap any other day. I swear, I would rather this happened to me in the summer.

I stare at my leg a lot to pass the time. I t's actua l l y (the pain again, sorry) better to look at it than my phone, sitting there just waiting for me to reach over and get it. For a little I considered just reaching over, enduring the pain. But then I thought that I have no idea how bad the injury really is. Too much movement could pull it even further from its socket. I could need amputation. I'd be one-legged for the rest of my life. Getting pissed at lizards 'cause they can grow their tails back but I'm a cripple forever. Nasty cricket munchers.

So just for the contradictory hell of it I tried reaching with my good leg, and burst into tears and screamed and bit my diary's pen at the _fucking agony _I was met with. I don't even know how it happened. I just stuck my good leg a few inches deeper into the dark pipe, being careful to avoid the injury, and it was like a nuke went off inside the bad one. It made me think of screaming up the pipe for help again. I did, I did till my throat started hurting and my neck got sore from staring straight up. There was no difference in the situation at all, exce p t t h e o rrange glow of fire is gone. Now all I see through the hole up there is darkness. Really, now I'm just writing all this to ignore the dream I woke up from five minutes ago…

(Description!) I had been mauled by flesh-eating, B-movie zombies. I crawled half-dead into town after town, looking for either help or a final, decisive death. I didn't find so much as a crumb of bread to suggest any person had even been i n th ose tow ns but me. I think this is infinitely scarier than the black darkness of the pipe that looks like it wants to eat me alive.

I'm trying to think of good things to get rid of the image of those deserted towns. I should make a list!

Zolei, my angel. Who came to me in a Christmas stocking and likes greasy, fatty ham and sleeping in my bed

My friends, ranging from prep to freak to jock to everywhere in between, who all have the amazing power to stand me as long as they have

Shion Haruno, who gave me birth and a home and love and so much unheard-of trust one teenager can barely contain it all

Soccer, which gives me as much ecstasy and adrenaline as intercourse

Deidara, who means so much to me I won't even bother writing it down

Nope, that's it. Deidara gets the honor of being last.

**January 3****rd****? Daytime? **

A while ago I suffered the worst pain of my life. I cried like a little kid and (at least for the first few minutes) I didn't even try to stop. I woke up from bad dreams to realize I'd moved in my sleep, moved, tried to lay on my side, except there was no soft, horizontal mattress to fall onto. There was a curvy stone pipe which my bare bone hit and scraped on and you can't imagine how much it hurt. I could hear my own heartbeatlike I was going into cardiac arrest. It's incredible, how pain can make the sharpest mind, the coldest person, melt into a babbling, screeching mess. It's shameful that I can watch surgical procedures on TV, see a man's spleen plucked out and squeezed, and then this makes me sound like a child with their first owie. Am I meant to be a doctor after all? Is this is? A wound and blood running down my already-bloodstained pants will ruin my life dream? Blood, which is nothing bu hey someone's calling my name!

**January 3****rd****, Hallelujah! **

And now for the chronicle of my super amazing rescue! People were calling my name as I started writing the word "bathroom" so I stuffed my pen and diary into my jacket, out of the way, and cupped my hands over my mouth and started screaming again. "Here! Here! In the pipe!" I heard rushing grass, and then the light above was blocked, and then snow fell on my face from above. I would have laughed if the situation hadn't been, you know. This.

"Sakura Haruno?" an unfamiliar guy shouted down.

I replied ecstatically, "Yes! Yes, I'm here!"

"Honey! Honey!" The guy's face was shoved away and I could see my mom's long hair outlined in daylight. "Sakura are you okay? Say something to Mom!"

I couldn't tell her anything good. "My leg's broken, Mom." I tried to say calmly and probably failed. "The bone's sticking out my knee." While I talked I heard the man from before running and shouting to some others.

"Why didn't you answer your phone, baby?" Mom sobbed down to me. I think I could see tears shining in her eyes. Is it sadistic to say that made me happy? "It took the police a whole day to track it, and they said if they can track it, it's still in one piece. I called you twelve times. Mr. Iwa told me he called fourteen."

"The phone's really close to me." I said, ignoring a certain, heartwarming comment for now. "I can't get it it. It's…" Then it hit me that as they pulled me up the pipe my leg would unavoidably bump on the walls. Horror filled my voice now. "It's right in front of the broken leg. I've tried—it hurts so much—I can't even reach over and get it."

"A compound fracture?" asked a second man. I couldn't see him but his voice was clear. I heard the second man saying something into one of those big walkie-talkies only police officers have. "Stay calm, Sakura. We can get you out. It'll help if you can tie a rope around yourself." I told him I probably could, but he would have to listen to my banshee yelling.

You know, it really surprised me that Deidara wasn't there (since he tried to call me more than my own mother) or Tenten or anybody I knew but my mom. On one hand, it was evening and people might be getting ready to go to bed soon. On the other, everyone in town used this road. Odds are, someone I know tried to head this way sometime in the past hour, and came up to roadblocks and police sirens. Whatever. I think I'm just lonely or something. Happy to have people back with me, as I didn't when I was alone down in the pipe.

When the rope came I gulped, stored my diary in my jacket and put my already-dented purple pen in my mouth to bite against the pain as I tied the rope around myself.

The men pulling went slow as they could, and stopped every time I made noise. Twice the bone knocked flat against the wall and I screamed so loud and it hurt like a knife wound in the eye. I can't make the average person understand and no, I will not stop talking about it. But I can tell you I bit my pen in half.

When I got up there were perhaps four pairs of arms on me and they didn't put me down on grass. It was smooth and after I was done (pathetically attempting) to stop my crying and shaking I noticed it was a stretcher. One of the men had to rip my mother off of me. I was left alone sitting there, bleeding and half-crying and shaking like I was having a seizure while this guy in a blue Nike jacket inspected my injury. Every poke and prod hurt like a burn and like frostbite at the same time. After a while he said, "We have to try and set it right now. Every second, your tissue is healing around it. It's going to be harder the later we do it."

"Okay. Okay." I murmured, sitting and leaning back on my hands.

I looked around. Saw the guy with pen and paper, probably a reporter. Saw the highway where the pileup had occurred maybe a hundred feet away, with the median and the bridge railing totally ripped off but all the cars towed away. I was staring at the bridge just to distract myself from what I knew was coming when a lithe black car just stopped in the middle of it. A beloved figure jumped out and started running down the hill towards me.

"You can use Mr. Hugh's spare pad," said the Nike jacket man, and handed me the reporter's writing pad.

I popped it into my mouth and felt my mom sink behind my back. She rubbed my scraped, bloody hip comfortingly. I could count on my hand the times I was happier to have my mother there with me than that moment. I could count on my hand the number of times I knew exactly what someone would say, and feared their saying it. And he said it.

"Start biting down on the pad now. It'll be better." I did. "You'll be okay, Sakura, I guarantee. This will definitely heal." He pushed down on my bone.

I screamed at something so excruciatingly painful my brain couldn't handle it. All noise and pictures around me blurred together. I saw...white.

My body shook and tried to curl into a ball. I heard voices and felt people touching and holding me and I didn't care what the fuck they were saying or doing. It seemed like forever till anything started making any vague sense.

"My baby!"

"_Your _baby?"

"Let me have her! Let me see her!"

"Type O, that's right."

"You should take the diary for now."

"Both of you need to leave her alone. She's not ready yet."

I woke up in the bed for the first time with, no surprise, my art teacher towering over me. He looked like a creeper, all silhouetted in fluorescent light, but the sight was still welcome. My eyesight adjusted (I noticed I still had my tee on, but I couldn't feel my jeans on my legs and was then really glad for the sheets). I groaned a little bit since I could still feel faint pulsing in my left leg. I looked closely at Deidara and saw his hands were clenched tightly on the bedsheets. I dared to look up at his face, and the sheer worry and horror I saw there just prompted me to smile a little and say: "…I'm okay."

Slowly he leaned down and took my head between his hands. He was trying to crush me in an embrace, I bet, and not wound me and didn't know how to do it, aww. I let him struggle for a bit and then put an arm around his shoulder. He used that leverage to pull me to a sitting position, and then gave in to his needs and crushed my torso.

"I thought you were gonna die." Just his tone of voice made me smile. That amount of caring can't be faked. He cares about me so much it's sickening. "When I got there they had just gotten you out. And you were screaming. I told you to stay awake, and you said, 'I can't'."

I have no memory of that. I tried to soothe him with fact, things I knew well. And could actually say without screaming right now. "The human body can take a lot of shit before it shuts down for good. It just... And my body...sank, I guess is the word. I wouldn't die from this wound but it had just occurred to me, without a doubt, that… "I'll just have to leave the soccer team." He must have known how much that meant to me. He sighed and smoothed my hair.

"Would you feel better if I told you I got a ticket, mm?" For a second I thought he meant…a driving ticket. Like, for speeding. Thank goodness I thought about it and didn't say anything. "Six in the morning on New Year's Day, I called in, they played a little Jimmy Paige, yeah. I guessed right and they mailed it right to me."

Deidara's ticket to Rockfest. It must be like his own little Christmas.

"That one can be yours." I promised.

"Fuck no. We'll end up with two tickets or none, allright? You go with me or you don't go."

Being with him was making me feel a little happier. I decided to joke with him. Familiar stuff. "Or I steal that ticket and have an awesome time with total strangers."

He adjusted our position so he could more easily kiss me. It was tender and Starbucks espresso-flavored, and there was no mouth-rape. Deidara's lips brushed mine as he spoke. "And I go and get you and drive you to South Dakota. Where I can _legally punish you for it._"

Which had to mean the legal age of okay I'm really gonna write this sexual consent in South-D is sixteen. Or seventeen. Either way my face screwed up in horror/fear/amazement that he'd say that, that he'd KNOW that! I still don't know if he meant it. He fondled my hair again and kissed my forehead. "Or I can just blab about your diary."

My blood turned cold. Turned to ice. The body temperature of one Sakura Haruno dropped five degrees and she felt it.

I hid my growing HORROR by digging my nails mercilessly into the sleeve of his shirt (Mmm. Hurley makes sexy tops.) and growled, "WHAT."

"Your mom was on the phone with somebody so the doctors took your diary and gave it to me. Dumbass must've thought I was your caring big brother or something and I'd wouldn't look in it." His smirk was like a gun being held to my head. "Seriously. Would you not read a little bit if you found one?"

"No!" I barked back. "I'm one of those people with things called _morals _and _decency. _Do you have those on Planet Traitorous Douchebag?_" _I grabbed the lock of hair that hung in front of his eye and pulled it painfully to the side. The now-exposed eye didn't open. "Which pages did you read?" I demanded.

My DOOMED significant other grinned. "The first one was October twenty-third, which is when—"

"Iknowwhathappenedthen!" It had been our first date. We'd seen a movie. There were details in that entry about his attractive smile, among other things. Oh my lord. "What else?"

"I flipped forward some. To this one entry where you drove me home—" I could see the affection in his eyes at that memory. Or maybe he liked how I wrote about my entire self melting at what he'd done to me.—"and then the one you wrote on Christmas. I didn't text then because I was waiting for you to text me, FYI. And then I flipped almost to the end. Where I got the 'honor of being last'." I pulled the lock of hair down, hard, like that would cover his view of me, realized it was really dumb, and lay down on the bed again with my hands laced over my eyes. "There's more about me in there than anyone else." he murmured like he'd just discovered it.

"You're my favorite teacher." I replied like quietly. I had tried to tell the truth. I did. But...it. Didn't. Work.

And then came the dreaded awkward silence. I was probably blushing like a complete dork with a crush and hiding it with my hands probably didn't make it less obvious and I felt as exposed and innocent as some prepubescent tween caught with porn. And I could just sense that he had read more than he was telling. And staring at me.

Lord above, it was the END OF DAYS.

"I didn't know you had nightmares that much." He noted a little later and a little less awkwardly. "You talked about them in class sometimes. More than most people. But there's a lot you don't describe." More awkward silence. I didn't know what to say. Did he want me to burst out with more nightmare stories for him? Should I tell him about the woman who chased me through a grocery store of vomit? A train I rode down a frozen mountain that came alive to save me from certain death? Or the Jewish father in Auschwitz who was going to be gassed, and told his little son he was just going to play Hide and Seek? What the fuck does he want anyway?

The silence went on and on and on and I started getting scared. Deidara was never one to stay quiet for long. Unless he had a purpose.

"Sakura. Where's your dad?" And there it was. I didn't answer. God willing, my mom would come in and hug me and not allow for anymore questions. "'Cause, I looked in the school records last May, and then at the beginning of this school year. His name wasn't even written in. It's like you don't have one."

This doesn't even matter to me. Doesn't even matter to my mother. But Deidara wants to know, so it matters now, so I tell him. "He got shot when I was in elementary school. He was really stupid. I was a fifth grader and I knew better than him. I knew better about everything." I stopped there. The story became less impressive when I go on to say my father liked to get drunk and act _stupid, _as in, stick his head in the oven and start singing. Thankfully, my pulsing leg started hurting. And I was thankful for the first time ever. I pressed on it and tried not to hiss at the feel of the pain.

Deidara was up immediately and I was about to tell him to sit down since this was not even close to how bad it was before, but he took a syringe out of his pocket and moved the sheets aside. Thankfully someone had given me boxers to wear, but unthankfully there was a huge, ugly red scar near my kneecap where my bone had been set properly in. He stuck the syringe mercilessly into my thigh. Were he a doctor, I would have commended him for stabbing me in the femoral artery with such accuracy.

"Doctor says this helps with the pain. I should give it whenever you need it, mm." he announced with a small smirk. I doubted the "whenever" part. Deidara had probably conveniently misheard the actual dosage. "There's ten more in the bag," he said, brushing hair over his shoulder. "And a bottle of pills that do some other shit, yeah. Those are once a day."

"Yes, sir." I said and tried to smile. "Really, you don't have to be my doctor."

"Yes I do," he practically scoffed. "Starting tomorrow I'm going to be. They'll keep you here another two nights, and then you're coming home with me." Since I was staring, like, a lot, he added, "Your mom and me already talked about it. You'll call her every two hours, and if you don't, she'll send cops to get you."

I banged my head against the pillow and pretended to be exasperated at her behavior while Deidara talked about what a beastly mastermind he was for convincing my mom to let him do this. And pet my hair while talking. About thirty seconds later Dr. Klein came in with my mom, and I guess the sight of this college boy fondling a "sleeping" young girl irritated my mom.

She said quietly, like a cobra preparing to strike, "Iwa, if you'd please." Lolz! My mom calls him Iwa! Too great!

"It's fine, Mom." I defended. She immediately came over to her and took my head in her arms (away from Deidara) and rocked me back and forth. It was some serious awkwardsauce since people were watching, but not nearly as bad as the End-Of-Days moment a bit before.

Dr. Klein had been talking with my mom, he told me, and they both agreed I was to stay out of soccer for a month, and to be on crutches the same amount of time if not more. Much as I wanted to I knew it would be useless to mope. I sat there with an emo face and agreed and concurred monotonously to everything he said. Mom and Deidara stayed in my room for another hour and I watched, amazed, as Deidara got her to show her somehow extensive knowledge of Nine Inch Nails and Bob Dylan. Well, I learned something new today!

**Friday, January 6****th**

I spent the morning learning how to use crutches. It's really awkward and painful to go to the bathroom but at least I can do it. I remember when Marie Hugo in my freshman history class broke her leg snowboarding, she let me try her crutches and I was so, so sure I could use them like a pro. I so, so did not. Now I learned what I was doing wrong all that time ago. But even though I'm more experienced now it still hurts my armpits the same amount and makes them sore as heck. But at least the presence of these things means that the pipe experience is fading. I'll recover, it'll be over, and it'll be okay.

While I was practicing walking down a hall with a nurse, Deidara came up to me and said he had to go to the college to pick up something which he'd been putting off for a long time, and he didn't want to leave me here alone but he'd be back in twenty minutes and blah blah blah blarg blah.

While he was gone I took a break from my practice and thought about how ridiculous this was in hindsight that I have the most sexy and awesome human male at my feet. As in, if I ask him to strip, he'll do it (slowly) just to make me happy. I went back in my diary and made a few little notes, because I was sitting bored to death in a hospital. In hindsight, those aren't important.

My mom came after work so she could give me a bag with a change of clothes, my phone (which had been rescued from the pipe with a magnet, btw) and some feminine needs in it, and just worry over me. Deidara was glad to help with the worrying and he drove me away around eight-ish at night. I noticed Deidara drove a lot smoother than normal, probably to lessen any sharp turn/fishtailing/seventy mph pressure off my leg. When we were just a block away, sitting at a dark, lonely stop light, I told him that he was really nice to drive like this for me, and then I leaned over to hug him. He used just one arm to hug back but that arm had strength for two.

"In a week I'm going to go up some stairs," I told the minute we neared the elevator. "This has screwed up my soccer career and I'm going to get strong again as soon as possible. I can't have my best kicking leg turning weak on me."

"But _now,_" he said, pushing me very gently into the elevator, "you're going upstairs the easy way and you're going to let me take care of you, yeah."

"Let you?" I giggled.

"Let me take care of you," he repeated as we started ascending. "You never do. You never want anything. Well, now you're a cripple and you've got no choice." And the oddest part of that was that he sounded completely serious. When we got into his place I was already feeling exhausted so I headed to the living area to walk around on the crutches for a little workout. My new legal guardian got the wrong impression. "Um, you are _not _sleeping on the couch."

I almost shivered. "Well, I'm not sleeping in your bed, either."

"Yeah, you are."

Then I did shiver. Visibly. "But—there—" I was reliving the memory of my first time in this room, discovering all sorts of college kid stuff I'm still too innocent to see, and I mean that. "There's…there's Playboy and Axe in there. A ballgag and a whip for all I know!"

"And there's a porno under the couch cushions. _Go _to my fucking _room._"

"How about I go to your room when it's actually bedtime?" I said. But really I was just stalling. I had a feeling that if I slept in his bed, Deidara wouldn't want to occupy the couch at the same time. "Eight-thirty hasn't been my bedtime for…eight years."

He stared and blinked in that way that people do when they don't want to admit they have no Plan B. (I see this on blonde people very frequently, I ought to note.) Then he grabbed his cell from his pocket and started tapping buttons. Next thing I knew Deidara was on the phone talking with someone…in Japanese.

Oh my god. I forgot how that language makes everyone sound like one of those guys at auctions. He was going like sixty words a minute! And in approximately 1.2 minutes (how many words would that make?) he handed the phone to me. "You can kill time with Hidan, yeah. He's wanted to talk to you for months. His English is really good, and he's got a, uh, good grasp of slang."

I put all my weight on my good leg so I could have a hand free to take the phone. Awkwardly I said, "Uh…hi?"

"Dude. You sound like such a Lolita. Has Dei tried dress you up yet?"

Um, whut.

"No! Never mind. I remember last year Dei told me this story that you told him about your chemistry class. You were using gas pumps or something…and your hair caught fire? Tell me that story, _please, _woman, it was the funniest fuckin' thing ever."

Well…I spent like two hours sitting on the couch, talking with Hidan, taking a break once to call my mom. I corrected whatever mistakes Deidara had told him about me. Did you know Deidara told this guy I'm _innocent? _I mean I've heard that before but...but...well, just but.

It was probably around the two-hour mark Deidara set a can of Sprite in front of me (he knows I love it) and told me with the traditional hair-smoothing he was going down to the parking lot to talk to a couple of his friends. When he left, Hidan asked if the sound of the door slamming was in fact Deidara leaving. I said yes. Suspiciously.

"_Kami-sama, _fucking finally! Took that bastard long enough! You know Dei's had fantasies about you?" I kept wisely silent here. What I had learned about this man from two hours' worth of conversation told me that he could very well be pulling my leg.

"Dammit, you're supposed to shriek 'WHAT?' and shake the whole fucking building, bitch." (Hidan called me "bitch" a lot but I think he meant it in a positive way. I think.) "Come on, they're all about you!"

"Uh…how many is 'all'?" I said with only mild-sounding surprise.

"Well, he's told me about…six. But one I know there was also one about that chick at your school who looks like him. Tino? Ino?" (Lawlz. Tino.) I told him Ino. "Yeah, Ino. He hates that whore like country music. But more importantly he's totally hot for you."

A question came to mind and I asked it before I could think of hiding it. "Do guys normally tell their guy friends about sex dreams?" I asked.

"If they're hot. Nobody ever talks about, like…one that's about their friend's mom. And, anyway, the ones Dei-chan had about you were like—" Hidan started to describe one of them and I can't write down what he said, partially because I know it'll stick in my head forever like a maggot infestation and partially because to write that down would be like writing the script for a porno. I'm feeling...odd right now so I will note that the word "catgirl" was said more than once...and...yeah. After he was done, Hidan said, "And after that one, he woke up ten minutes before his alarm. So, you gonna fuck him soon?"

"I'm _sixteen, _you dick!" I spat. "Contrary to popular opinion, most sixteen-year-old American girls like being virgins."

"Then when you're seventeen! And I thought you came from Japan anywa—"

"Shut it! When I'm seventeen there will be a very slim—like _anorexic, _slim—chance of _maybe, _and only if he still likes me then and I'd have to be raging drunk, which is not likely to happen, 'kay?And even _then_ my mother will hate me and call me a slut and a skank and unfaithful and everything else she can do to make me feel bad."

"…I didn't hear anything after 'maybe.' I'll totally talk to you later, seriously, you're wonderful, but my bitch sister is—AACK! FUCK! _Shinei, onna! _Bye!" He hung up and moments after that I felt the true magnitude of what the guy had just said: my boyfriend, an older man, FYI, has had sexual fantasies about me at least six times.

As I write this, Deidara is still down in the parking lot talking to his friends. I don't know if I'll be able to act normal when he comes back up, so I'm just gonna go to bed right now so I don't have to talk to him. Better to sleep in the guy's bed than talk about how much he wants to screw me up the wall. God knows what my nightmares will be like tonight.

**Saturday, January 7****th**

It's been Saturday the seventh for like two hours. Meaning it's two in the morning as I write this. (I gotta give all this writing a break or I'll be at the end of this year's diary by spring break!) but this can't be _not _written down. I'm writing by the light of Deidara's desk lamp, but I'm still sitting in his bed. It's crazy comfy.

(Oh and I dreamed that I found a steel baseball bat and beat Zolei to death.)

Anyway. I was snuggled under the covers around 10:30 when Deidara came back in. I heard him drop something on the floor and then come straight into his room. I felt him get a little ways onto the bed but I wasn't turned towards him so I couldn't see. Maybe he just put one knee on it. Anyway he whispered, "Sakura. You sleeping?"

I muttered "Yes" and then flinched in surprise when he stuck an earbud in my ear. He asked me what I wanted. I said something Nirvana would be nice, but to please keep the volume low since I was quite tired. He found my favorite of theirs, actually and put it on the perfect "background noise" volume.

He lay down next to/behind me and brushed my hair with his fingers for a little bit. It was really, really sweet and I had the feeling that, if I were watching that scene in a movie, I'd smile and curl my toes at the adorability. It didn't last long, though. That hand moved down and wrapped around my stomach instead. We were basically spooning.

His face was so close to the back of my head I could literally feel him smiling. "Hayden and Sean asked about you." I remembered Hayden The Flagpole and smiled a little too. "And Sean wants to meet you tomorrow, mm…Sakura?"

"Yeah?" I said sleepily.

He paused and then said, "…You take college-prep algebra, don't you?"

"I'm not doing your college homework, Deidara." He was quiet for maybe twenty seconds during which I got real sleepy and my mind slipped into the tunnel between sleeping and waking. But of course I wasn't allowed to actually sleep.

"Skylar lent me this movie called Alien, yeah. Him and Sean said I should watch it tonight. Or first thing tomorrow—like, before I breathe."

"You've been in America for seven years and you've never seen Alien?"

"Will you watch it with me?"

"Sure… I'm spending all of tomorrow…with you…right?" I was really getting tired now. I could barely hear the song playing in my ear. Was there even a song playing?

"Is it good?"

"There's this one scene…" Well…how to describe THE SCENE? I giggled a little and his hand went a little tighter around me. "…you just have to see it. You might not be the same after seeing it." And then there was another twenty or thirty-ish seconds of silence. More tiredness for me. I kept my eyes closed and I was halfway to dreamland when he spoke again.

"Sakura?" My response was one of those "Ughhhh" moans that sleepy people do. You know. "Are you gonna go to France this summer, mm?"

"No." I muttered. "I'll be…exchange student…next year, right before I get into college. Don't think I know enough…now…" Maybe the iPod wasn't even on anymore. Maybe I was that tired. Dunno. Another period of sweet, sweet silence came after that. I don't know how long this one was. I was way too out of it.

Deidara said again, "Sakura?"

I didn't mean to snap but I kinda did. "What?"

"I love you."

That...that's. Oh, God.

I was surprised at how _not surprised _I felt. Because in between the mouth-raping sessions and taking me up into his apartment and letting me sleep in his bed and the hair-touching thing that's been going on for months and a whole bunch of other shit I'm too tired to write right now, I could have and should have guessed. Only problem now was how to respond. I got a good, cute idea in seconds, thank goodness. He'd like this.

I started feeling around the pillow and headboard area, muttering to myself. "Where is it…where is it? There!" I felt Deidara's arm and pulled it under my head, then said quite meaningfully, "My pillow."

I don't know how much time passed since I may as well have been drugged then, but at some point his spare arm went around me crazy-super tight. Which must mean my response to his confession was…positive, I guess? It's a good sign. Whatever. I woke up a couple hours later with the memory of beating my poor cat to death, and did I mention the heartbreaking music I heard in the background? I can still remember it. It was eerily similar to the Lord of the Rings score. Hinata would have cried.

Thinking of that dream now, which normally would make me cry (cause I love my Zolei!) and of my boyfriend who loves me, I still feel happy, and that's good, isn't it? I turn and look at him sleeping next to me and think how wonderful in almost every way he is, I feel like everything around me is just _perfect _and in twenty years I'm gonna tell my kids about my devoted, funny, adoring high school boyfriend, and if I write more about how I feel this paragraph is never gonna end oh shit he's moving.

**Monday, February 2****nd**

HA! I just KNEW I could go three weeks without writing! There were so many times I wanted to, like when I woke up the morning after Deidara's confession and found him lively and flippant as ever, and giving hugs a lot more. And we watched Alien while eating breakfast, and when the baby burst out of Kane's chest, Deidara screamed like a woman, "_Jesus mother_!" and squeezed me like a stress ball, and then he hid behind me when the scene was over. He asked in this hilarious choked voice like he was crying, "Is that gonna happen again?"

Or on Monday the 9th when school started again and the first theory kids came up with about my leg was that Deidara was an abusive boyfriend and broke it when he got mad at me. I explained it all with the help of kids who'd read about the story in the local newspaper, or had been held up by the roadblocks on that road themselves. (Bryan Graham was really happy to see me; somehow he read the story wrong and thought I died)

And I really really wanted to write on Saturday, Jan. 14th, when I went to our soccer game against Larsington and I was just a spectator for the first time. Holly, Tenten, Breanne, Chloe, pretty much all the girls said they missed me. But mostly I wanted to write then because Deidara took/forced me to meet all his friends after the game. We went out to eat even though it was nearly ten at night and I got examined up and down by a bunch of college guys (and two girls) who all shared the opinion that I was super cute and funny and pretty much everything good a girl can be. Their only complaint was that I wasn't adorably shy. I think they were hoping for a cute, Hinata-esque personality trait there.

Deidara's posse, btw, includes: Skylar, Sean, Hayden, June and Kayla. We went to Chili's and Skylar gave Deidara the idea of hand feeding me, like literally licking sauce and stuff off his fingers and I did, just once, so I wouldn't look like a bitch. But I did refuse to let him even touch my food. Surprisingly, I had fun.

BUT NOW…I guess I don't too many super interesting things real recently. I've gone to our last two games and haven't played in either, but by the next one in four days, I should be able to. Kayla and Sean (a couple, I just found out) want to come too. Deidara told them the story of my badass flip-kick goal in November and they want to see my athletic abilities at work. I aced my French test last Thursday, and by "ace" I mean get everything right plus the extra credit "translate this paragraph" thing at the end, meaning a HUNDRED AND EIGHT PERCENT, THANK YOU.

This stands in great contrast to the C that I got on my last algebra quiz. Deidara mocked me for this in Pottery, in front of everybody and I stabbed him in the eye with my eraser since he wouldn't shut up about it. And it was just as Josh said: "Oh! Oh! Rape in the EYE!"

Rockfest tickets are all but unavailable now. Whatever radio-giveaway thing they had going on before is gone now and the website hasn't said a thing about when they're going to be on sale again. The kids in my school who had been planning to go are getting scared because the tickets have never been this late before.

Oh, Hinata and Catherine came over last Wednesday and we sat in my room reading to pass the time (Maximum Ride is the shit) till the Lost season finale came on. Catherine just about threw her precious Gucci shoes at the TV when it was over, I guess since it was too short for her. Just after it, we saw a trailer for the new season of NCIS, and Catherine got pissed because Hinata and me knew all about it and she didn't, and Catherine hates to be out of the loop like that. Okay, now I really have run out of stuff to write. Homework time now.

**Wednesday, February 11****th**

Afterschool today I went to the park since it was oddly warm for winter in the Dakotas, fifty-three-ish degrees. I asked Tenten to come with me so we could do a little soccer practice there. She came to my house with a jacket she'd bought just for me, a cute slimming black one with a soccer ball on the back. The spots on the ball are pink instead of black, and I love it!

Tenten brought her ball and we walked over and practiced hitting it past each other. It made me really happy. A couple days ago I was back to my offense position on the team in a game against Rooter High, and we won by two points, but it still felt good to just kick the ball around after the fiasco last month.

And of course, Deidara walked by with Skylar and June twenty minutes into our practice. I think his hair looked a little silkier than usual. Deidara said the jacket looked lovely on me, and he wanted to kiss me before he left, please, but I turned the tables by saying he could only if he could get the ball past me. Skylar and June could help if he wanted. Since he's Deidara and he'd be okay with tossing a grenade around, he agreed. Their attempts weren't pathetic, but with my aggressive footwork I stole it from them every time. Poor college students, falling on their asses in front of a high schooler.

"But Sakuraaaaa!" Deidara complained when he got up off his ass for like the twelfth time. "We gotta go to the college and spend all fucking day there! I really want a kiss!"

"Stop acting like a three-year-old and you'll get it," I said, juggling the ball on my knees.

"Actually, Dei, we have to go like _now,_" preppy June chimed in. She was looking at her phone, which was one of those super expensive ones where you have a whole, pocket-sized keyboard to use for texting. "We were supposed to be there ten minutes ago. If we run—"

"God, _fine!_" June and Skylar just laughed at him, saying he wasn't getting any today. He trailed despairingly after them. When he looked back at me, I waved goodbye. I realized once they crossed the street I could have blown a kiss. If he acts emo in class tomorrow, he'll say it's all my fault, and he'll say it loudly. So when I got home I used my phone to take a picture of myself blowing a kiss (it took three tries to get one that wasn't totally gay) and sent it to him. Oddly I got no reply. Since I was bored after that I got out my Pokemon games and started owning the Elite Four with my favorites, Flareon and Blastoise.

I can be a nerd and a soccer player at the same time SHUT UP!

**Sunday, February 14th**

Deidara had to be at his college all day Valentine's Day, and that was a drag for him, or so he told me in so many text messages. As he texted me that, around nine in the morning, I was finishing up a card I'd started last night, touching up the colored bits with copic markers I had used maybe three times in my life. And I freaking out to more often. The card had a red phoenix on the front (position and style and whatnot totally not copied from Google Images or anything) since he so loves birds and wrote, in Japanese, mind you, "_Aishiteru, Deidara-kun," _on the interior of the card, surrounded by a flame motif. Me and fire go way back, you see. On the back, I drew two parrots, one wearing a Nirvana T-shirt and one wearing a Britney Spears T-shirt. Guess which bird looked happy and which looked ashamed.

I jogged up to the college and waited twenty minutes by the library doors for him to come out with his professor, and Hayden and Skylar. I stood up off a bench and put my hands behind my back, and let him come to me. Well, he didn't really come, he ran, and picked me up off the floor and kissed my neck and said I was so, so cute and so beautiful, and I made both his single friends jealous as hell and was that card for him? (Whew!)

I said, yes, it was, and he opened it. He looked completely dumbstruck that I knew any Japanese (despite _being _Japanese. Um, hi?). Okay, granted, I remember very little of it seeing as I came to this country before I could even write cursive. But I can say a few things. And that one impressed him.

"This is why I love showing you off to people. Look at this amazing shit you can do. You can do anything." He flipped the card over and saw the parrots. "Haha! Yes! Ah, _aishiteru, Sakura._" We kissed in front of his professor and his buds and I didn't give a damn. They would wallow in their single-ness someplace else.

Then Deidara slipped an iTunes giftcard into the pocket of my soccer jacket. (For a moment, he was holding me up one-handed and I had a passing thought something like, "Me likey a strong man~" But you didn't hear that from me.) I slipped it out again to look at it. It was worth fifty bucks! "Wh-whoa. Thank you! My iPod needs some updating."

"Hell yeah, it does." He scoffed. "Last three times we plugged in your iPod during class, the same five songs kept coming up. Thanks to you, I'm actually getting _tired _of 'Stairway to Heaven', mm. You see the shit you do to me?"

"That is called the repeat function, sir. You see, when one has a favorite song they can press this delightful button-" He shoved me up a little in his arms like a little kid and I barely kept from laughing out loud like one. 'Cause that would actually make me embarrassed that his peers were...still watching us.

"Excuses, excuses! Go forth and buy new songs!" He let me slip out of his arms and I started to walk away. I half-turned to wave at him, and then started jogging back home. My heart was aflutter. And I mean aflutter.

**Friday, February 20****th**

Today there was an unexpected blizzard at about 10:45. They noticed it was coming at maybe 10:20 and school suddenly stopped. Ms. Nash from the guidance office came on the intercom during fourth period and said, "Attention all students and staff members, please gather your belongings and prepare to leave the building immediately." After everyone did the obligatory "YAAAAY!" we saw the seriousness of it, as in, this blizzard might just knock over trees and smother people and the school would rather we freeze off campus where they're not responsible. Heather, Shea and Bryan Graham all asked that I text them when I was safe at home, those sweeties. I couldn't find anyone from my special circle (Naruto, Hinata, Tenten, Catherine) in the mass of kids trying to get to their cars and the buses, but I did text Deidara to tell him I was taking my bus home. I got on my bus and of course the heater was broken so when kids got dropped off, and when I got dropped off, there was practically no change in temperature.

My mom was at work today and probably would have to stay there, but Zolei was right by me the whole time as I walked nervously through the house. I remembered the last time there was a weather crisis I made chicken soup and I did that again and even poured some in Zolei's bowl. It was nice because it tasted great and we ate it when the wind wasn't quite as violent as it had been before.

At 11:30 sharp there was a loud, persistent knocking on the door and it scared the shit out of me when I first heard it. It scared me so much for a second I really thought it was zombies or aliens or strangers coming to rape me. I acted like a stupid scary movie female star and opened the door and was for some reason surprised to see Mr. Iwa stagger in with about six pounds of snow, so much that I could barely tell what color his clothes were. I directed him to a rug so he could brush off all his snow and not damage any hardwood floors.

What came Since romance doesn't come naturally to me I had to just say what was most practical. "You realize my place is farther from the school than yours?"And he decided to speak with action rather than words again. He hugged me out of nowhere and because he was my boyfriend I realized I must reciprocate, and I hugged him back real tight.

"Do I really have to explain?" he said into my hair.

"…No." He sighed then, like he'd been expected me to say yes or something. I tried to make him feel a little better. "My mom's told me a dozen times about how solid the windows are, and we have good insulation, too. We're fine in here."

Deidara took off his jacket, the snowiest part of him, and put it on the coat rack then took my hand and dragged me over to the living room. He plopped onto the couch and made me fall quite accurately onto him with minimal pain to either of us. "Then it's okay if we chillax right here." he said confidently.

"Ah…yes?"

He kissed my forehead and I hoped I wasn't red. "I wish you knew how cute you are. You're kind of like a cat." Then he started his favorite pastime, messing with my hair. I lay my head on his chest and just left him to do as he pleased, which I know he absolutely loved. Once I saw him reach down to pet Zolei and that made me smile. Then he went back to me, and I smiled again, and thank god he didn't see that.

Eventually I fell asleep and had a dream that we got a new cat, Luna, pretty and patched black and white, to be Zolei's friend, and we got her a pretty collar and a new bowl with stars and moons on it, and when we went to the pet store to buy her, Zolei came with us, and licked her face. We brought her home and she and Zolei played with Zolei's old mouse toy together and it was so _sweet_—and then I woke up and there was no Luna. I was really sad to wake up from that one.

"Nightmare, mm?" he said to me. I didn't hear because the wind outside was really loud so he said it again.

"Not a nightmare, just…a disappointing dream. Why?"

"You were kinda, moaning."

Oh geez.

"…Yeah…Catherine says I do that sometimes."

"I liked it." I think he liked it even more when I looked around like a fool trying to avoid his eyes. I mean eye. Which was hard because it was the only big, bright blue thing in the room. Eventually he said, "Hey," and I still tried to be buttheaded and avoid him. When he actually put his hand on my cheek and said, "Look at me," and forced me to do so…I'm not sure what I felt then. Or if I was red or not. I saw one of those blush-inducing, masculine smiles, and a strange glow in his eye…that faded into normalcy when hail started battering the windows.

"That _really _ruined the mood," he growled. That made me giggle a little. Deidara got up, put his hands under my arms and lifted me up and held me against his chest like a little kid. I had to practically put my legs around his waist not to fall. And let's not forget his hands, to keep me there, were totally groping my ass. And he walked up to the nearest window and inspected the falling hail like it was the most serious thing ever.

"Is this…trying to make the mood come back?" I asked.

"Nah." He stepped away from the window and I felt my back hit the wall. I flashed back to my "being raped by strangers" thought I'd had a few hours ago, even though…you know. "But this is a really hot pose." He left a soft kiss on my cheek. "And great for kissing." The rest of the kisses were, I guess…playful? Definitely not mouth-raping. I liked them, but felt kind of retarded when about halfway through Deidara took my hand and guided it up and around his neck. Which is where it should have been all the time…yes?

Zolei's mewing interrupted us. Deidara was quite pissed this time. We crouched on the kitchen floor together and watched Zolei bat his mouse toy around. Deidara got bored or lazy or affectionate or something and randomly leaned (flopped) his head on my shoulder. I pretended to know what I was doing when I reached around and caressed his face. At that point he said, "You love me, right?"

I could have very well said, "Isn't that what I put on your Valentine's card?" and made it easy, and reasonable. I didn't. I just didn't know what to say...except what came right out: "Yeah."

"Cool."

After that I was totally expecting some mouth-rape, but it never came. I'm not quite sure what to make of that. Was he surprised I said yes, or disappointed or what? Usually I don't have to guess what Deidara's feeling since he usually wears his feelings on his face, but this occasion was pretty odd. After maybe five more minutes Zolei went to the litter box and I decided Deidara's head was making my shoulder numb. I shook him off and went to my room to get a movie for us to watch and he followed. And when I'd gotten a couple for us to choose from, he didn't want to leave. I remembered that the last and only time he'd been to my house, he'd only seen the kitchen and living room and bathroom downstairs. My room was new to him.

He gazed at my posters and drawings and figurines and everything else like he was surprised as hell I owned anything. He walked to one corner and inspected the posters there. "Is that FMA?"

"Yup."

He picked up a shirt that had been laying neatly on my dresser. That freaky smiley face for Nirvana was on it. "This looks like it'd be tight on you, mm." he said with great interest.

"Not really. Remember, I'm a stick."

Holding my shirt in one hand he turned around and smiled at me for what seemed like no reason. I stared back in confusion and in the background the hail and wind kept on going. After a minute I said, "What?" to which Deidara decided to be annoying and say, "Nothin'," and turn back to looking at my things. He's smiling at me, again, and all my things, too. The things that make me, me. And he likes me.

And...that makes me happy. If you didn't notice.

666

Well, now we know for sure Sakura has good taste. FMA and Nirvana, an anime and band which, respectively, are called simply fantastic by _many _people. And you can't deny that no matter your personal preferences. Even I, the author, can't deny it, even though I don't really like Nirvana.

And, **no this is not the end. **Because I'm StormDragon666 and I can't help but keep my stories long and detailed, this went from a oneshot (in my head) to a twoshot on this site to a threeshot to a fourshot to a full-blown story. Honest to god, I didn't mean for this to happen, but it just kept going and this "average American" life of Sakura's grew exponentially and I just love writing it, even the parts that were random and pointless like when Sakura and Tenten go to the park for soccer practice.

Random notes. 1: Aww, Deidara called Sakura his baby. How cute and odd. 2: He read her diary. Which makes him look like a total motherfucker in the eyes of some defensive girls with diaries. 3: Hah! He had _no _idea what was gonna happen in Alien! 4: Ah, the love confession you all wanted. Deidara did it awkwardly because he's not a master with words like StormDragon666 (lol, whut?) 5: Yes, Sakura plays Pokemon on occasion. She knows the worth of classic games! 6: I'm sure I'll think of a sixth comment to put here later.

Enjoy this for now, before a fifth chapter takes up all your attention. Thanks for reading.

(**EDIT: FEBRUARY, 2011. I can't believe I forgot to put a Valentine's Day entry. I guess I just dismiss it so much IRL that I did it here, too, even though neither Deidara nor Sakura would ignore it in this universe. Well, it's there now.) **

Ta…Storm


	5. After

Hey, guys. I wanted to update something non-Pokemon related (that is not to say Storm does not want you to **read her Pokemon/Naruto cross, Pathway**). I haven't done any Naruto updates for months, but I assure you ideas have been building up in my head all that time. I've never lost interest in Naruto.

Speaking of time, I got a new laptop for Christmas yeesssss. Much better than my old one for which I actually kept books nearby in case a site took too long to load (often).

By the way (1) this story has no central plot except Sakura growing up and me having fun writing it. Expect the unexpected here, that is, whatever the hell I feel like shoving in Sakura's face.

By the way (2), **Happy Slightly Belated Birthday, Sakura!**

666

**Sunday, March 1****st**

So I woke up this morning (at 6:02 AM for some reason) and couldn't go back to sleep so I flipped around through my bookshelves to find some entertaining book or manga and I found "From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler," a book older than my mother, but I always liked because it was about kids running away from home. Then again, these kids ran away to a museum of all places, but I guess that would have worked it the sixties when this was written…so I wandered around all day having thoughts about running away. Not that I have a reason to do it but it's just interesting, you know? Like how hail breaking through a window or someone getting attacked by an animal at the zoo is terrible, but you just keep staring/reading about it because it's interesting? Why the hell am I justifying something to myself in a diary only I will read?

Eh. It's Sunday. Bedtime now.

**Tuesday, March 3****rd**

Right after French I go to lunch. It's just down one hall, turn a corner, down maybe thirty feet of the next hall, and you're in the cafeteria. Not too far I guess. When I got there today Deidara was at my table, like, sitting _on _the table, talking with Catherine. I got there and set my bag down and they still ignored me so I fiddled with the pocket of my cute soccer jacket that Tenten had given me and after a little more time I decided they were just being damn rude.

"Don't you have some clay molds to fondle?"

"Right after you, mm." And there was some fondling/tickling and the supervisor for our lunch shift gave us one of those "You kids these days and your public displays of affection and your teen girls falling for older gentlemen and your Nintendo Wiis and your texting and your Coke Zero and your" okay now that's just exaggerating.

When I caught my breath again I asked what he was doing here, and didn't he have lunch in half an hour, and have a class to teach right now?

"They can wait a little bit, hm. I wanna know what you want for your birthday."

(A vacation home in France. Oh! Something he can GET me for my birthday!)

Naruto would get me the latest box set of House, and Hinata would get Lost (lol wordplay), the latest season that is, Catherine would find some super cute shoes that would miraculously fit me even though I'd never stuck my feet in them before, and maybe Tenten would finally give me those karate lessons I'd been asking her for since fifth grade. I can picture Chloe or Holly giving me a poster of Taylor Lautner or something, too.

"Can you sculpt my cat?" He blinked. Well it's a weird sentence, I suppose. "Whatever pose you want. I'd put it on my nightstand and it'd be like a little Jesus I pray to every night."

"You mean that's not me?" he said, actually looking kind of sad.

"Only when your back is turned. I'm shy like that. But seriously, a sculpture of Zolei would be wonderful. Personal, you know? Everyone else will just be buying me things."

He grinned and kissed me again, and was dashing off back towards his classroom. He cut through the lunch line on his way, getting in this jock's face and going "BLAGH!" just to be funny, I assume. The jock's friends thought it was hilarious, and Catherine was almost rolling on the floor. Once she collected herself, she finally sat down and pulled out a neat little blue bag with a tiny plastic pair of heels hanging off as a keychain. "God I _love _crazy guys!" she swooned, putting her hand and simultaneously a banana on her forehead. "Girl, someday I'm gonna slit your throat and steal your man. I mean, that ass is _hot. _Not that your ass isn't hot, too. And who doesn't love two hot asses lip-locked in a passionate kiss? Speaking of wh…OMG."

"What?" I looked around and saw Hinata coming towards the table at last, carrying an extra textbook. But that wasn't worthy of a Catherine OMG. "Come on, what?"

"At the end of the line, moron! The very end! Sai is kissing Ino, like, _nicely._"

I _flipped _in my chair to see what the hell that meant, and my eyes almost warped at it. By kissing _nicely, _Catherine meant Sai was kissing his girlfriend/possible lackey Ino like he cared about her, sort of in the way Deidara would kiss me, and in the most public place possible in an American high school and nicely. Nicely is the detail.

Sai is the usually-slyly-being-smartass-occasionally-passive-aggressive-all-around-frustrating kid who's pale as glue and has a long history of pissing me off, remember. If he kisses anyone nicely, he must want something from them. Ino's virginity is up in the air for all I know. Her family has an average-ish amount of money and I doubt she's so stupid as to be into drugs like Sai's best buddy, Kin. What would he be kissing her for? Hinata came to our table walking backwards so she could watch too, and bumped into it which was pretty cute, but we kept on staring.

"Can't be good news if sly boy hooks up with snobby girl." Catherine observed, and we watched while Ino grabbed Sai's hand and swung it from side to side in her own like a kid with a…something. I don't know. But she looked happy to be doing it. Kids were starting to look pissed that they were holding up the line. Sai realized this and pulled her forward with him so the line could advance. Obviously they weren't ga-ga for each other or they wouldn't even notice the line.

In history after lunch, Mr. Reese asked me to tell everyone what I thought was President Polk's most important accomplishment, and I was still reeling from Sai and Ino's "relationshipwtfthing" that I just stuttered like a total idiot. Mr. Reese tried to be funny and said I looked like a new student stuttering like that and I should get up in front of the class and say hello to the class just like one. And I'm never going to understand why he thought that was necessary! I mean, I always thought he wasn't petty like that but I guess you can't even trust a nice old guy like Mr. Reese these days.

So I straightened my skirt while Carlos giggled retardedly at me, and when I got up there I barked out just like a nervous new student, "HELLO TO THE CLASS!" and returned smoothly to my seat.

Mr. Reese was un-senile enough to know I'd one-upped him, and I told that story to kids in gym and then in art, and Deidara thought it was hilarious.

Oh yeah, and that night I dreamed Ino was America's new chancellor and Sai was the Secretary of Inhuman Art (which meant he regulated the national business of carving drawings/etchings into the skin of human corpses and selling them). There was an epic terrorist invasion. They wanted to steal the secrets to America's booming art business, and it was high-powered and intense as an episode of 24. Woke up just before Sai could shoot Ino's diabolical twin sister. Damn!

**Friday, March 6****th**

So, today I got some sort of confession out of my mom. I think. Here's how it went: Deidara wanted to go out today, so I prepared a nice, cute outfit for it. I put on a dress-like red tee over a white long-sleeve shirt, which I thought looked pretty cute with jean capris. I went downstairs around to wait for him when my mom walked by with one of her cookbooks in her hand. She gave me a once-over and said, "You look cute. Going out with your art teacher again?" That was weird enough, since I'd told her I was going to hang out with him three days ago and she's not forgetful. I told her so.

"Yeah, well, sometimes I do forget things. You spend so much time with him, and talking about him and talking on the phone with him, it all blends together nowadays. You may as well just live at his place; I probably wouldn't notice." And she just walked off to the kitchen like she'd just commented the weather.

Zolei, who had been in my lap, was dumped off as I got up to ask her what the hell this was about. "What's this about?" I asked. "I do not talk about him, or talk on the phone with him, or hang out with him enough that it would all 'blend together', Mom! You don't need to act like he rules my life just because you don't like him much."

She set her book down and stared with an unnerving blankness at me. "Sakura, he's obviously the most important thing in your life, you're just not saying it aloud. You obviously want him and from what you say, he sure as hell wants you, so go have your little rabbit-screw and leave each other alone so I can _have my daughter back!" _

For a really quick second I thought, _'God, I hope I'm not this stupid when I'm a mom,' _then mentally bitchslapped myself and tried to approach this thing calmly. "Mom…what?"

Her lack of expression was still there (or not there?) but I could see her eyes getting wet and red lips shaking. "Don't pretend, Sakura. He's very attractive, I'm quite sure you're not lesbian, and for all I know, it's already happened behind my back."

I still can barely freaking believe this! I stuck my head forward a little bit and said, "You want me to have sex with Deidara…so our relationship will stop…and we'll have mom-daughter family time again?"

With her torrential feelings put into simple terms like that, she literally collapsed into a chair. "Yes!" she sobbed but I kind of hope she never actually meant it. My mom and me have a pretty good relationship. I didn't know what to do with her crying in front of me _because _of me. I stepped toward her awkwardly like she was somebody I didn't know who required comfort instead of my own mother. And it's a little hard to think of my mother as the person who wants me to have sex with my older boyfriend as soon as possible. (What mom in the fucking _world _says that?)

I put a hand on her back. Like that helped. "Mom…the farthest me and him ever got was kissing." Suddenly I remembered from several weeks ago the fact that Hidan told me that I've been the subject of Deidara's fantasies several times. I sure as hell would never tell her that now. "And he's not my whole world. I always put my friends first. And you and me still have fun together. Remember last week when we totally died laughing at that redneck guy on Comedy Central?"

I saw her smile a little. "Hinata avoids even walking in the same room as her mom. You know how her parents are, and how she sometimes feels like they don't even like her. And Holly hasn't spoken to _her_ mom since three summers ago." Actually it was her dad she hadn't spoken to, but since my mom knows Holly as the girl on my soccer team who's been living with her aunt and uncle since junior high, that doesn't matter so much.

For a couple tear-filled minutes I thought comparing her to my friends' moms had done the trick. But she raised her head and stared at the front door like a zombie. "I'm not Holly or Hinata's mom. And they don't have boyfriends who are legal adults." Now she looked at me. It was a wry and dark look. "And all it takes is one statement from you for that kissing to be turned into molestation."

"He doesn't molest me, mom." (Um…um…uh.) "He loves me. He said so."

That…didn't help. She looked at me with wide eyes now, like I'd said I had cancer. Pancreatic. "Honey. He just likes you. There's no such thing as love at your age, there's infatuation. High school relationships are very pretty illusions because they're your first experience in anything like love. That's all. Your father said he loved me just before college started. You see where that went?"

"_I'm _where that went." I reminded her, trying to be funny. "And I thought I was the bestest kid ever."

One side of her mouth curved up for a second. "You are. God, you are. Something had to balance out your fucktard dad."

What the fu...I'd never heard...All right I admit I had to pause and absorb the fact that my mom had just said "fucktard." After that…

"He wasn't a fucktard, Mom, he just was really dumb. I remember he turned on the oven once and stuck his head inside. I had to pull him out. He was one of the stupid drunks, which is much better than an angry drunk." Because you could still laugh at a stupid drunk, even if his own stupidity had gotten him KO'd on the interstate at one in the morning. My father's death would make an interesting sleepover story if it weren't also a shameful embarrassment to my mother and me.

"And anyway I'm not gonna have a baby with him. I'm not gonna run away to Vegas, I'm not gonna go out and do drugs, I'm not gonna have sex with him." Well, he's implied that if we're still together when I'm in college… But this is SO not the time to say that.

She put her head back in her hands. "I just…miss you, I guess. You see him three times a week sometimes, and at school, too, of course…" She looked at me again, this time fondly. "Just don't forget I exist over here. I'm afraid we _are_ going to be like Hinata and her mom just because your boyfriend wants to see you every second of the day, and I'll be a background character in your life at best. I don't want that. I was always thankful that my daughter actually _liked _me and I want to continue being thankful. Okay?"

That made my heart melt. I mean really, my mom and me get along so well. If this counts as a fight, we haven't had a real one since I was thirteen and I got in trouble for punching Sai at school. I guess it would really suck if I turned into one of those girls who just tries to suck as much money and free rides from her mom as she possibly can.

"I love you, mom," I said, which, I realized, was easier than saying I loved Deidara. "And my boyfriend's not gonna make me grow apart from you. If it starts…seeming like that, tell me, and I'll stop or fix it or something. I like having a mom who likes me, too. I know a lot of kids don't."

She scratched her head and kind of turned away. "Okay then. Awkward fight's over. You go wait for your boyfriend." I got up maybe faster than I should have. When I was about to sit on the couch nearest the front door, she followed me and put her hand on my shoulder. I turned around.

"One last thing."

"Yeah?"

"You remember right after you got hurt in January, and I let him babysit you?" I knew where this was going. "You remember how I threatened to send cops to his house if you didn't call me like I told you?"

I remembered. "Yeah?"

"That threat still stands. He does something I don't like, unless he's got a _hell _of an excuse, unless he was saving you from the wrath of the ant-Christ, I'm sending armed men after him. God forbid he treats you wrong." She patted my shoulder, smiling like she'd just given an inspirational speech and sauntered off back to the kitchen. I sat down, quietly pondering what my mom would look like tailed by gunmen. Or just using a gun on Deidara. Thank god I heard his car right then. I called out to my mom that he was here and I was going. I saw her wave and then whisk back into the kitchen, carrying Zolei in her arms.

Just before going out the door I smoothed out the left side of my head, which tends to have the most flyaway strands and reached into my purse to move my little surprises nearer the zipper so I could whip them out more easily. You know, before my mom had gone all heartfelt on me, I'd had a rather cool plan for this date. For once I'd be the one surprising Deidara. I wondered what he'd feel like being on my side of the fence, that is, the "take everything, give nothing, stand there being sort of ashamed" side. Anyway, I went out the door then.

I could see him pressing buttons on his stereo, switching CDs I think. He was wearing a shirt I liked that was plain, deep blue with a pretty (well, I would verbally say "badass" if he asked…) Chinese dragon winding up one sleeve. I also deduced that he'd gotten his hair trimmed. That lock he keeps over his left eye was just a little shorter.

I opened the door and was closing it before he said anything, which was odd. Normally he'd be begging for a kiss the second I put a single toe in his car. I was about to shut the door behind me (remember this car has doors opens _up_?) when he slammed his hand on the dashboard and randomly barked, "Fuck!" I jumped like Zolei when he sees the vacuum.

His eye turned my way and with an irritated frown, said, "I wanted to have your CD ready for you. Stupid stereo's been hitching for three days, mm."

"So you had to hit your car just for that?" I scoffed. I think I value Deidara's car more than he does. Maybe this is one of his blonde areas, that he thinks it's just a car when in fact it's a damn expensive car that could practically bail you out of jail with its retail value…okay, I like his car. Sshh.

"I hate when I try to do something for you and it gets messed up. I want to do everything right for you." Midway through saying that he reached for my hand. When he was done, I squeezed it a little playfully to take the sudden seriousness out of this conversation.

Just for a moment I thought of all the times Deidara had failed me, which included…him not being able to get Rockfest tickets. The end. But that wasn't even under his control, so, really, he's never failed me. I had to laugh a little, which made him smile, like always. "What are you talking about? That's never happened. I wouldn't be upset if you messed up a little, anyway. Your record is way too perfect. And besides…" I flicked at the zipper of my purse to make room for my fingers, reached in and flashed my surprise.

His eye was suddenly bigger than Hinata's boobs, swear to God. "Where'd you get those?"

Well, they _were _tickets to Avatar.

"Bryan Graham."

"The kid who thought you died?" (In middle school days I knew Bryan as the kid with one green eye and one blue, but I like his new title better.)

"Yup." I had something else on my mind involving Bryan, but decided to keep it to myself. It could wait till after the movie. Or any other time, really. "And we should get going now. We'll have to fight for seats if we don't hurry." Deidara just said, "wait," and reached over and placed his hand gently on the back of my head. He slightly forced me to lean over to him so we could meet halfway.

I'm still not the best kisser so I didn't do…whatever good kissers do…but I just tried to keep my mouth slightly open so he could take control use his tongue dammit I don't know. It's not like I can ask him, "Hey, how do I become a better kisser?" My god, he'd love that but I've still got a lot of shyness in me so…yes.

Suffice it to say…it wasn't as "violent" as mouth-raping, but he just didn't want it to end. Or maybe my sense of time got mixed up along with the rest of me and I _thought _it took a long time but it didn't…He's a damn good kisser. He knows using his tongue is what makes my stomach (and me) turn and squirm the most. He kept moving back a little to breathe, making me think he was done for now, and just coming right back. And at the end I felt his smile on my lips and finally he stopped. I had to bow my head so he wouldn't see my pathetically red face. And he tried to turn up my head so he could see it to, that little dick, and I kept smacking his hands till we were doing that girly try-to-smack-someone-face-but-you-just-keep-hitting-their-hands-as-they-deflect-you thing and giggling. 'Cause _that's _how you end a make-out session with the person you like, my children!

Now that I re-read that, it's an awfully big paragraph for just sufficing something. Anyhow…

Once we'd both recovered(?) Deidara defied the speed limit and my request to not scare the shit out of any feeble old ladies driving on the same road as us to get to the theatre in time. While speeding, he managed to make me spill the story of my "argument" with my mom and promised he'd try and compromise with her. Dunno what that means.

I was sneaking in a bag of Doritos to eat but he wanted popcorn and didn't want to be left alone with a bunch of strangers (because they'll just rape you in the snack line and make you pay for their nachos don'cha know) and we almost did actually have to fight for seats.

That little affair went to the tune of "two guys came up to us when our butts were perhaps five inches from the seats and said they'd claimed them already; when we wouldn't leave they said they'd make us, so I stood up and told them to go ahead and do it, if they really would hit a girl just to see a movie, I'd bite their goddamn fingers off; Deidara flicked a piece of popcorn in the other guy's eye and dang did he scream-I guess butter hurts-they left us alone and god willing, the next people they threatened made them scared enough to leave." Geez, the people we live among!

Oh, by the way…James Cameron, you sly dog. You thought you could slip this masterpiece under our noses but we've got you now! We're taking you and your Na'vi straight to the Academy Awards, mister!

**Monday, March 9****th**

Okay, besides getting a call from an unknown number from Sweden last night, in recent news, Tenten's birthday was today! It was a really great day for a Monday, as well, particularly since I almost missed the bus this morning due to my untied shoelaces. I did this weird dancing sort of thing to keep from falling from an angle at which everyone one the bus who was looking could see. When I leaped onto the bus, Chloe leaned over her seat and grinned, "Epic sprint there, honey."

I "da-da-da"d the Indiana Jones theme as I skipped down the aisle, making some kids giggle and used my "whip" (iPod headphones) to flip her beret off her head and it somehow got in her mouth and she tried to throw it at me as I found a seat. The bus driver thought we were actually fighting and forced us to stop. Dang adults can't tell the difference between kids having fun and kids trying to eat each other. Ah, well.

I actually spent some of last night thinking of funny things to say for today. Tenten loves to hear me just talk about random things because apparently, I'm quite funny. This opinion is shared by Deidara and...a lot of people, actually. So I planned some in advance so she could laugh even more today. That was her present (as well as a two-pound box of dumplings).

My personal favorite occured in French. I don't think I've ever mentioned in this year's book that Tenten takes French with me. It's mostly because her mom's forcing her, but she's in French II with me, is the point. And today, Madame Labrie had to go to the opposite side of the school to get some papers another teacher was holding for her. She told me to lead the class in our discussion of global warming. Kids got quite excited at this and when Madame Labrie left, Clint and Gustav started clapping and whooping, "Yeeeaah, Sakura! Let's talk about some _réchauffement climatique! _I'm ready to absorb some KNOWLEDGE!_"_

So I jogged on up to the front of the class and swept my hands together like an evil mastermind. I grabbed the textbook that the teacher had left on her desk and opened it to the page we were supposed to be reading from. It was basically an article on the effects, the freakish, unrealistic, awful ones, as in sea levels rising and drowning whole cities, of global warming. I set to work diligently illustrating this on the board.

"Okay, so this all starts with the sun…" And I did a very accurate representation of the sun with a baby inside it from Teletubbies. Plus sunglasses 'cause that's required when you're on the sun. "And heeeeeere's…France…" I dragged that part out to glance back and forth between a map of France on the wall and the accuracy of my drawing (45 percent, and unfortunately, that's generous.) I drew arrows pointing from the sun to blob-France. "Here we have heat waves, beating down with the intensity of a thousand suns—"

"But there's only one su—"

"SHUT UP!—intensity of a thousand suns. And some of these are trapped in our atmosphere by the ozone layer and raise the temperature of the earth. So if something isn't done about this, France will become a _livinnng heeellll._" For good measure I sketched a stick figure with red horns. Tenten was red in the face by this time.

"Hi-his horns look like ears!" she cackled, pointing. "Bunny ears!"

"Nuh-uh, donkey ears!" Jenna stuck her arms straight up, which is apparently what donkey ears look like nowadays.

"Fine, the devil's a donkey." I consented.

Before I could add to that, TJ suggested I leave it up for the teacher to find. I scoffed and started erasing all the drawings. "Are you kidding me, the devil burning down France? She'd eat me alive, and I love France!" I had to say that extra loud, because Tenten was about in tears and thank goodness she was sitting down! Madame Labrie came back at just that moment, when Tenten was struggling to breathe, and I had to make up a joke on the spot about the greenhouse effect to placate the teacher.

I told this whole story to Deidara today, and I thought he'd find it hilarious but he barely spoke at all during my telling of it, which happens when he makes a bet with his bud Skylar and loses, or he went to buy some album and found that the store was out. I asked if it was the new Rev Theory he'd gone out attempting to buy and had missed. I had bought it myself, so I offered to let him borrow and burn it, but he said that wasn't the problem (as a matter of fact, he'd been one of the first to buy it, or so the cashier had told him).

Unfortunately for Mr. Iwa, being the dumb blonde he is, he just un-tactfully admitted that there is indeed a problem. Well, this won't be as fun as sabotaging Sai's report card, but since we're "together" I have to find out what's wrong, right?

Right.

**Saturday, March 14****th**

Yuggh. Friday the thirteenth was awful. I got a salad for lunch since the school's burritos don't agree with me and spilled Italian dressing all over my pants. My _blue _pants, so the stain shows. At the least, it was near the calf and not my upper thigh or anything so it didn't look like I'd had an accident or some freak menstruation malfunction. And a freshman named Trevor I talk to occasionally fell down the stairs during passing period. It wasn't the sort of fall you'd laugh at, either. The crack his skull made on the landing was pretty sickening (honestly, though, I'd better get used to nasty sounds or I'll never make it to diagnostician) and his friends had to literally drag him to the nurse because he was just about unconscious. He'll come to school on Monday with a cast for sure, poor kid.

Today, though, was really nice in terms of weather. Tenten and I got together and practiced making goals in the park and then bought some McFlurries since the day's 67 constituted a heatwave considering the temperature we've been having lately. Oh, and report cards came out yesterday and apparently I've got a C+ in my history class. Which is not cool. I have no idea how it happened since I've been turning in all my work as usual, and since it's me doing it, it's damn good work, but I can't help but think of the little "HELLO TO THE CLASS!" spectacle. Reese wouldn't "forget" to add the last few assignments to the computer just because of that, would he?

**Tuesday, March 17****th**

Haha! Everyone who tried to pinch me first had to pretend they didn't see my jade necklace, and if that failed, my eyes. 'Cause those green babies have never failed me. Naruto had pinch marks all over his arms by lunch, though. Idiot.

I can't dwell on that too much, though. Ever since last Monday when Deidara acted off…well, it's been continuing. He's just not as lively as he was before. At least, that's how it was last week. He was more mellow than anything else, but on Friday, and Monday and today, he's been anxious as heck, and is gripping the counters and tabletops like he wants to rip them up and eat them. I've been keeping watch but can't find a shred of evidence as to what this is about. He's not checking his phone anymore than normal, his clothes aren't disheveled or smelly, there's no mysterious black cars hanging around the school, or anything.

The fact that I've drawn up nothing means the guy's either really, really crafty at hiding his emotions or really, really stupid at expressing them. Neither makes much sense. It pisses me off that I can't figure it out and when I ask him what's wrong he looks the other way and tells me to go do my work (oh, and by the way, there have been a grand total of _five _Rockfest tickets sold since Christmas, to this concerts that's supposed to have thousands of people. So…). I would consider that dismissal meaning the problem was about me, but he gives that response to everyone.

Psh. Blondes. I'll get this eventually.

**Thursday, March 19****th**

I got it.

The first thing about this situation is that I can never tell it to my mom. Ever. Fucking ever.

It happened on a day that I picked out a pretty cute outfit, on purpose, and not for a date. This helped to add a dash of awkward onto the dark, unsure entrée of _are you serious?_ The outfit consisted of a blank white tee, over which was a spaghetti-strap black tank, some jean-shorts and my red (fake)stone bracelet for accent. It's unfortunate I found this out on a day I was feeling so good about my choice of clothes, but that pales in significance to the actual issue. What the hell am I writing? The actual issue happened just like this:

Went to school this morning, my mom had fallen asleep on the couch reading. Normal day of classes, two compliments on my clothes and a stony, silent glare from Ino Yamanaka which I kindly returned till she passed out of my vision. Pottery came at the end of the day as usual and I was finishing up my sparrow mold when the bell rang. I rushed to wash my hands and stick my sculpture on the shelf reserved for this class. I was so late doing this I was literally the last person out. I waved bye to Deidara and was about four feet from the door when he called back, "Stop!" and I stopped. He was wearing his now-typical anxious face, tripled in intensity, one hand in his pocket, the other hanging limp. "I-I need to tell you something. I've sat on this too long, mm. You should know."

My inner analyst put on her thinking cap and prepared to absorb as much information as possible. Another part of me decided today was a nice enough day to walk home if the buses left before we were done here.

Deidara turned around and went to one of the six tables where kids would sit and leaned against it, his head in his hand. I could sense the issue was worse than I thought. He dragged his palm down his face, inhaled, and said, "It was on the seventh." He looked at me as though expecting a response.

Well, I tried: "What was on the seventh?"

"You know Josiah Sandleford? Senior, plays the trombone? He's in my Pottery I class." I had said hi to him a few times. He was a weird combo of loud and talkative and band geek, was all I knew of him. I said so. "He's not just loud and talkative." Deidara corrected me. "I found out then that I can no longer trust that kid worth shit. I…I got along with him pretty well. His friends and mine have met, gone to movies together, stuff like that, mm. His parents are out of state for some reason, so he threw a party, and asked me to come, and, and—I did, 'cause I thought he was a cool guy, and why the hell not, right?"

He wasn't looking at me. That couldn't be good. I used one of the chairs as a step and sat cross-legged on the table just across from him so we faced each other. He crossed his arms and went on. "I was…feeling down at the time and I was a stupid fuck so I let Josiah and some friend of his talk me into a drinking game. I had all Sunday to walk off the hangover so I did it, mm. Got so wasted I think I almost kissed a guy. So wasted Josiah handed me a phone and had me call you."

There was silence after that in which I waited for the consequences of what was probably a prank call Josiah had convinced drunken Mr. Iwa to go. At the time, I was guessing either my mother, Principal Jiraiya, or _his _mother. Or a total stranger. They were all possibilities. He looked right at me again, his eye weirdly…something. I still can't place the expression. "You got a call from a weird number that night, right? His phone's screwy so it could've said anything."

And _ding! _I remembered that call from Sweden that I'd let ring and ring, and told him about it. "Yeah. That was me. Sometimes Josiah asks about us, and I tell him, and he thinks we're really great together, mm. Honest to god he does. So he'd arranged before to have his guest room open, and get your number from somebody…so he could get me drunk and call you."

This story still sounded like it was nothing but a prank call to me. Sure, I'd be completely _un_flattered if Deidara called me while drunk, if anybody did, but I was still not getting his point. "So he had you prank call me." I said, shrugging a little. "So what? Do you think I'm…mad or jealous you went to a party or something like that? I'm pretty sure people your age go out and get drunk sometimes. If you happened to be out of it enough to try and prank call me—"

"I didn't almost prank call you! I almost asked you to come over! So you could get drunk, too, and we could go up to his guest room and have sex."

I'll leave a few lines on this page blank to emphasize how I just…stared. I didn't know what to say. If I knew it would happen again and I could plan what to say, I would still not know what to say. Kiss, embrace, talk, text, mouth-rape, hold hands—have sex. I don't care how wise, how collected you think you are. The first time sex comes up in your life, for real, _right now, _you are not prepared.

"I'm sorry," he (almost literally) cried, and pushed against his table to stand at the one I was sitting on. "I'm so glad I stopped the call before it went to your message machine. Whatever I could've said, that would've been the alcohol talking, not me, but—but the reason I even let him talk me into that was because it's true. Once I turned off the phone I told him he was a stupid douchebag for thinking I'd just—" He stopped and took one of my hands in both of his. They were warmer than normal. Hot, even.

Feeling and hearing silence at that time would be almost too much for me. I had to fill it with some kind of noise. "You let him talk you into almost calling me to his place because _what's _true?" I asked more slowly than I meant.

His fingers curled around my hand and he pressed it to his face slightly. Oh god.

"I want you so bad," he whimpered, actually _whimpered, _and his hair managed to hide his face. "I know I said that, that time I got sick and you drove me home from the college, but that was when I thought I could wait, mm. This is different. This…"

He used my hand and his to brush his thick lock away so his one open eye could actually be seen. "This isn't right to ask you right now. I know, molestation, rape, jail, your mom threatening to shoot me. I'll have all that tossed at me. But I'm not thinking of raping a minor. I'm thinking of making love to the person I _love. _Maybe a little before she's eighteen."

What's a girl to say?

_I'm a good, respectable girl, you child molester! I'll be spending my days getting A's and joining National Honor Society and carving my path to Harvard, and I'll be damned if I have sex before marriage, so get your grubby paws out of my pants!_

No.

_Ohhhhh my fucking god I love you so much too! This school, this life, my mother, they're all so oppressive, making me do shit I don't want to do. I can hardly breathe, you have no idea…You're the only thing in my life that has meaning. Please, please, right here, right now!_

Fuck no.

I did the best I could.

First I slipped my hand a little farther into his. It was kind of falling out. Then I swallowed, just to make sure my voice wouldn't crack or stammer, and tried to put thoughts to words: "I don't know if I'll ever love you as much as you love me. I don't know what it's like to feel what you're feeling. But…I do love you. I do. And maybe you can help me…love you more…sometime when I'm seventeen and a half?"

God that looks stupid even on paper. Thank God no one will ever know I said this but me and him. I might not be thanking God when I'm seventeen and a half and still don't want what he does.

I don't know.

Deidara didn't look ecstatic or light up with joy or anything, but he smiled, a real, happy smile. He said I always managed to make him happy, held my hand for a bit, and offered me a ride home. We listened to Rev Theory on the way.

Wonder what Hidan's gonna say when he hears about this.

666

How was that after a year's hiatus? I'm still not sure about the last diary entry (or Sakura's "fight" with her mom since I hardly ever fight with mine...) but I really wanted to include something about a drunk Deidara and someone trying to "help" them have sex, which was the random dude Josiah. And it turned into basically a promise for Sakura to give her virginity to Deidara, maybe before she's eighteen.

Girls, don't actually do this. This is a fanfiction. These are written for fun, not to base your life upon. This plot point is to illustrate how much Deidara loves her, and the fact that Sakura offers some leeway, unsure though she is, means she wants him to be happy. _That _is what love's about, and if you're really in love, you'll know that.

Though speaking of "basing your life upon" the little drawings/speech Sakura made in her French class for Tenten are based something that happened in one of my classes last year, which I thought was just _the funniest thing in the world _at the time. I hope you actually found it amusing. Oh, and I'm pairing up Sai and Ino so they can have some happiness in their lives. You see, I like Sai a lot, I'm neutral/slightly-below neutral on Ino, and I'm above outright bashing of characters unless it's played for laughs. Ninety-five percent of the time.

Ta…Storm


End file.
